#when i lived there i was still in school and left home august and never came home to visit until late november 😭

[pansylocket]

crazy that i am soooo haunted by the fact that I will probably never get to live in my previous city again that it's the first thing I think about when I wake up. like it was so special to me but now that we've left we can't even afford to go back we're too far away. and I still have never seen it during autumn

[physicallyaveragementallyinsane]

quirkless au katsuki bakugo, who’s fresh out of college and meets you for the first time, hanging out with his idiot friends who didn’t introduce the two of you sooner.

(This turned out way longer than expected. Oops)

August is already right around the corner. The streets are beginning to fill up as it seems everyone’s preparing for the school season. The sun beating down on everything, illuminating the streets he’s walking down.

“Mina just texted, said everyone’s there. Wanna stop here and get something to drink before we head to her place?” Katsuki nodded and followed kirishima who was already opening the door to some local coffee shop katsuki never really remembered the name of.

Him and kirishima have spent, what seems like, the whole summer together. Not that katsuki had a choice in it. Both agreeing to rent an apartment after graduating. Kiri protesting it was the cheaper route for them both, and that he needed the company. Katsuki didn’t mind it at the time, but the more his roommate and friends dragged him around the city, the more he wished he would’ve just moved back home with his old hag.

an hour ago:

“C’mon bro, you can’t keep trying to hide in the apartment all summer.”

“I already said I’m not in the fucking mood to babysit you guys. Go without me.” katsuki retorts as he throws himself on the couch. He tried to ignore the phone calls from kaminari, sero, and mina, but it was hard to ignore kirishima when he can just show up whenever he pleases.

“It’ll be fun man! And you won’t have to babysit us. It’s just a cookout at Mina’s, nothing bad, I swear!” kirishima slams the door shut behind him pointing at katsuki who was trying his hardest to avoid the conversation, “Seriously I’m not leaving until you agree to go. I already let you get out of the last time!”

“Whatever.”

end of flashback.

After he finished being bombarded by everyone (mostly Mina who was pissed he ignored her 7 missed phone calls and 20 unanswered text messages) katsuki had settled himself in the kitchen of Mina’s lake house.

Often throughout high school, the group would find themselves spending weekends/holidays out at this place. Mina’s parents used to live in the house during the summer seasons to get away from the city, but in the groups first year of college, it was given to Mina to do whatever she pleased with.

Unlike the hustle and bustle the city, katsuki didn’t mind the quiet atmosphere out here and always enjoyed when the group would get together and hang out. Even if it did drive him absolutely insane sometimes.

The sun was already setting by the time he and kirishima arrived. Everyone inside helping mina get the food ready.

Except for you.

Katsuki hadn’t seen you before. No one said anything about someone else being here. Were you with Sero? Maybe Kaminari, but last katsuki checked him and jirou were still together?

“Y/n. She’s a friend from one of my classes last year. I tried to tell you she would be here but you decided to ignore my phone calls.” Katsuki shifted his gaze from you to Mina who was staring at him with attitude.

“why’s she sittin out there by herself? She weird or something?”

“Nah. She just probably doesn’t want to listen to everyone. She’s kind of like you in way. Gets annoyed easily. Especially by these two morons.” Mina repsponded as she smacked Denki and Sero on the hands as they were trying to sneak pieces of food she was cutting up for dinner.

Katsuki hummed in response as he looked back in your direction. He wondered if he’s ever crossed paths with you before. He must’ve at somepoint right? Not that it really mattered.

As Mina finished prepping the food, katsuki left the kitchen and found himself in the living room lost to a conversation kiri, sero and denki were having. During this time he must’ve not noticed you move in the living room until sero chirped out, “hey she’s finally not pissed at us kaminari!”

The comment making you giggle softly as you made your way to sit next to the two. “You guys make my ears want to bleed. I just needed to not hear you two talk for a bit.” Your eyes moved from them and glanced in katsuki’s direction.

His heart skipped a beat when you smiled and opened your mouth to introduce yourself to him. what the fuck-

“You’re bakugo right? Mina’s talked about you a bit. It’s nice to meet you finally.” You were beautiful. Katsuki found himself lost for words, which wasn’t particularly normal for him. All he could get out was a,

“Uh- Yeah.” Just as he was about to try and say something else, Mina shouted that the food was ready. You, denki, and sero, made your ways to the kitchen, working through the food. Katsuki stayed in his seat on the couch watching you talk and laugh at the boys and mina.

You must’ve met them all before.

How come they never said anything about you sooner?

Why does he care this much, he just met you.

“Mina introduced us to her about a month ago. Y’know, the last time you decided to not hang out with us” kirishima stared at katsuki with a half assed smile on his face.

“Why is everyone being such a prick about that. I didn’t feel like coming out here. Besides no one told me Mina was gonna bring her.” Kirishima laughed at katsuki as he stood up from the couch, looking down at the blonde,

“I don’t know man, seems to me you’re just pissed you didn’t meet her sooner.” Katsuki rolled his eyes, kicking kirishima in the shin. His eyes shifted back to you and met your gaze which was already staring at him.

Little did katsuki know, you just finished fighting with Mina about how she didn’t tell you her hot friend from college was going to be here tonight.

God, you could just kill her, and so could katsuki.

-

-

-

I did not proofread this so I apologize in advance if it is horrible. I just needed to get it out of my head. 🙏

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

I am Sage's mother, better known as Nana. I adopted Sage after my son died when she was still a baby. She's been through six foster homes by then, but we loved her and she blossomed into a joyful, lively girl who made music and art.

Puberty began and COVID hit, and she was treated for depression and anxiety, at times very severe. Her teachers shared any concerns with me so her treatment could be adapted.

The transparency ended in August of 2021 when Sage started high school. She started a public high school and she told me that all the girls there were bi, trans, lesbian, emo and she wanted to wear boy's clothes and be emo. Because I saw it as just a phase, it was fine with me.

But at school, she told them something different: she was now a boy named Draco with male pronouns. Sage asked the school not to tell me, and they did not tell me even though I informed them of her mental health history and medication. If I had known, this would be a much different story.

She was terribly bullied. No one told me. But boys followed her, touched her, threatened violence and rape. Something happened in the boy's bathroom but for two days, the school told me nothing. They kept meeting with Sage alone and she became so distraught they called me to pick her up.

That evening, I found a hallpass labeled 'Draco' and Sage told me she was identifying as a boy, and that her counselor said she could use the boy's bathroom. She'd been jacked up against the wall by a group of boys. She was crying, terrified. I said just stay home, we'll figure it out. That was my last conversation with Sage for five months.

The night she ran, she thought, to a young friend she'd met online, she left a note saying she was scared of what would happen if she stayed. The sheriff, FBI, search dogs were called in. I dropped to my knees in prayer. Nine days later the FBI found her in Baltimore. My baby had been lured online, sex trafficked by DC then Maryland. She was locked in a room, drugged, gang raped and brutalized by countless men. It was night. The FBI told us to pick her up in Maryland the next morning.

We packed our cars with blankets and stuffed animals and arrived by 8 am, but we were told we couldn't see her, and were summoned before Judge Robert Kershaw late that afternoon. They didn't even tell Sage that we came for her. We finally entered the courtroom and Sage appears on a huge Zoom screen from a prison cell. She looks tiny and broken, and I cry out 'I love you Sage.' Sage responds 'I love you too, Nana.' But attorney Anisa Khan rebukes us. She is a 'he' and his name is 'Draco' not Sage. We were floored.

Khan accuses us of emotional and physical abuse, that we are misgendering her, even though we just learned she claims to be trans and we're willing to use any name and pronouns to bring her home. My husband was so tearful he kept forgetting the new pronouns, so the judge had the bailiff remove him from the courtroom. I was pleading for my child to be returned and treated for her unspeakable trauma. Judge Kershaw told me, if I use the word 'trauma' again, he would throw me out too.

For over two months, he withheld custody. He housed Sage in the male quarters of a children's home. Sage told me she was the only girl and repeatedly assaulted. She was given street drugs by the other kids and Khan told her she didn't care. She just wanted to win the case and all the way to the Supreme Court if necessary. Khan tried to prove abuse, but we were eventually cleared by both states of all charges.

Sage later told me Khan had told her to lie that we hit her. Khan even had Sage's school counselors testify against us, though they barely knew Sage and they didn't know us at all. Khan told my precious child I didn't want her anymore. I found out Sage never received any of the letters I sent her.

Sage ran from the Children's Home and disappeared for months. They told me she might already be gone forever, but I couldn't give up and I finally found a tip on her social media that led the marshals to her in Texas. She had been drugged, raped, beaten and exploited. This time I was able to be with her for the traumatic rape exam, and to bring her home.

Back in Virginia, she entered the mental health facility that Judge Kershaw had ordered, as it would affirm her as a male. The therapist began pressuring her to have her healthy breasts removed. Sage was too scared to protest, but she asked me to secretly buy her girl's clothes because she wanted to be a girl, but keep them in the car. It took a kind lawyer, Josh Hetzler to secure her discharge.

After almost a year. Sage was finally home. Safe. Alive. Sage is receiving professional trauma care. The first trafficker has already been convicted. Sage has nightmares, panic attacks, rape-related medical issues, but there's hope. I tell her she's not broken she's just scarred. And part of that hope is that in courageously sharing her story, others will be saved.

Sage said she doesn't know who she was back then. She wasn't a boy, she just wanted to have friends. But her school, the judge, the attorney and the doctor were all blinded by their ideology. The consequences for Sage were unspeakable.

Please don't let ideology harm another child. Let parents do our jobs. We know our children best and we love them a million times more.

Thank you.

==

Jesus Christ. This girl was exploited by everybody, except for her parents, who were villainized for literally nothing. It's opposite world.

And the fact that everybody with authority prioritized stupid shit like pronouns and trying to coax her further down into a fake identity, even against her will, and other ideological bullshit over her actual wellbeing is disgraceful.

The judge and attorney need to be disbarred, the therapist stripped of their license, and everyone who conspired to separate Sage from her parents fired.

[419jhat]

Steddie Addams Family Crossover

- in which Steve is an Addams who can see ghosts and Eddie is a vampire

I never finished this but maybe I should? 👀

It began when Dante Basilio Harrington di Aleramici attended the marriage of his best friend Gomez into the American Addams clan. It was at that wedding where Dante caught the eyes of the oldest Addams daughter, Macabra, and the rest was history. Stephano Addams Harrington di Aleramici was born a perfectly unlucky thirteen years later, on an unfortunately sunny August morning, with light brown hair and hazel eyes that were delightfully abnormal for an Addams child. The Addams loved abnormalities, and Steve was absolutely full of them.

While he was excellent at traditional sports like fencing, knife-throwing, equestrian, and dancing, he’d never enjoyed the arts like communing with the dead or casting curses for his enemies. He was awful at seeing into the future and summoning creatures from the beyond, and other than the usual Addams ability to heal fast, he couldn’t regrow missing parts like his father could. Even stranger, he flourished in public schooling, loved to spend time with other children, and was often invited to spend time in other people’s homes. They’d never worried, though. As far as they were concerned, he was just a little different; a growing boy who needed space.

So, when they bought a beautifully boring vacation home in Hawkins, Indiana, that was what they gave him. But three weeks of strange behavior in suburbia hadn’t been enough. When it was time for the family to return, Stephano decided to stay, and Steve Harrington was born. He enrolled in a school, joined sports that didn’t end with a battle to the death, and hosted parties without any blood sacrifices. They didn’t understand it one bit. But he was happy, so they nodded their heads and offered to send him fancy beers for his keg contest, whatever that was. (He’d refused. Apparently, it had to be cheap beer.) They returned to their mansion in Massachusetts, happy to let Steve live his life. After all, he was just a crystal ball away and he had his ancestors haunting over him. He’d be fine.

Meanwhile, Steve was content in normality. As an Addams or an Aleramici, he was the odd one out. His parents delighted in his abnormalities, insisting it was simply Addams tradition to be strange, but the thing was, Steve wasn’t strange. Not outside of their family. As an Aleramici, he was the guy who didn’t participate in traditions like summoning the dead for love advice with a fantasy creature. As an Addams, he was the guy who didn’t have a collection of human bones in his bedroom or a criminal record. As a Harrington, he was the star of the town. King Steve, they’d called him. He was the guy who people lifted onto their shoulders after the championship game. He was the guy people clapped on the back when they left a party, even if it wasn’t at his house. He was the guy girls talked about when they wanted a date to prom. He was the guy normal people compared their kids to. An example of success.

And then Nancy Wheeler entered his life and he wasn’t that guy anymore.

Steve was, in the end, an Addams. It was inevitable that weird found him even after he’d tried to escape it. His reign as King of Normal ended the second the demogorgon tried to eat his face off. Sure, he’d held on for a little bit. He’d driven Nancy to tears trying to ignore the craziness of Hawkins and savor his time as an ordinary teenage boy. He’d tried to pretend it hadn’t happened, as if the idea of another dimension was a new concept that just broke his brain to think about. The problem there was that normal was new for Steve. Parallel dimensions and flesh-eating monsters were new for Nancy. He’d maybe underestimated the shock it would bring to her. He was still getting a hang of what exactly wasn’t normal for normal people.

After their inevitable breakup, he’d tried to do the normal thing and get back together. That’s what he was supposed to do, right? That’s what guys in his position did in movies. Of course, since Steve’s life was destined to attract the supernatural, this only meant that his reputation fell even further when Billie Hargrove smashed his face in, and he was somehow demoted to the town babysitter. Something about hanging out with nerdy children and dropping his friends for the girl who’d dumped him was not normal at all, and even worse, he found himself spending more time than ever trying to be normal, just like when he was a kid. Except this time, it wasn’t Addams/Aleramici Normal, it was Everyone Else’s Normal, which somehow didn’t come naturally to him anymore.

What was he supposed to do when the person he’d wanted to be turned out to be someone he didn’t want to be at all? When he looked back on his attempts to fit in and could only think about how he’d ignored Nancy for his own gain and called Jonathan a queer because that’s what normal people said to be mean. He could have turned around and ignored it. He could have sold the house and packed up for a different boring town. But he didn’t want to leave his terrified group of weirdos, even if it meant he had to be weird with them. And as it turned out, being weird wasn’t so bad when you had people to be weird with. Suddenly, his family kind of made sense.

Robin had been the beginning of the end. Meeting Robin had been like meeting the other half of his soul. Someone who just got him without needing to ask questions. He was sure his mother would call them soulmates if they talked to her in person. He’d never felt so at ease to be himself around someone before. While he still floundered with normality around everyone else and failed to get any dates in result, he felt completely free with Robin, as if he could just be Steve, nothing more and nothing less. Which is why befriending Robin shook him up so badly. The kids had hobbies that freaked out their parents and Nancy was for some reason seen as too much by a lot of the guys in town, and he could understand all of that. But Robin couldn’t help that liking girls was seen as weird in a bad way.

And that was what got him- weird in a bad way.

Because weird in a bad way had been how he’d felt when he couldn’t summon a demon for his nonna and when he failed to tell apart poisonous mushrooms for his after-school mycology exam. Weird in a bad way made him think about how he’d been embarrassed when his mom came to parent-teacher conferences. How his cousins had made fun of him for being so interested in playing with animals rather than dismembering them for potions. But even with all those feelings and his years pushing to be somewhere he fit in, he’d never realized that some people didn’t have a choice. Some people couldn’t just turn it off like he’d been trying to.

So, after he’d had his face smashed in again and made his best friend in the whole world while fighting a giant spider creature made of dead bodies that his dad would have loved to see, he’d finally started to come around. And when the world broke apart for the fourth time and he babbled to Nancy about the American Dream nonsense he’d been imaging for himself since he was twelve, he realized with a bit of embarrassment that he didn’t even want that anymore. That he was quite literally just talking because he felt like they were having a moment and it seemed like he was supposed to, not because he wanted to.

And then there was Eddie.

---

When Steve looked out at the grey clouds brewing over Hawkins and the strange soot falling from the sky, he knew he that it was time to talk to his grandmother. He hadn’t talked to Belladonna Harrington in a good four months, partially because he’d been so busy pretending it wasn’t a thing he could do. But with the world literally split apart and Max unable to wake up and Eddie dead and half their strange group unreachable in California, it kind of felt ridiculous not to.

So, with Dustin and Lucas tucked away in the guest room and Erica and Nancy in the master bedroom and Robin keeping watch on an unresponsive Max in his room, Steve pulled down the little foldout ladder in the garage that led to the attic and made his way to a little alcove with pictures of relatives. Belladonna had died young, but apparently she loved being dead so nobody in the family was particularly sad about it. She’d been a fashionable woman and her picture showed it well. Seeing that this was one of Steve’s few talents, he didn’t actually need the picture to do this. But he did need the privacy of the attic he didn’t want to freak anyone out.

He sat down on the bare floor and closed his eyes. This didn’t need any preparation, but he hadn’t done it in a while. Something in him was always terrified his few skills would suddenly vanish. He rolled his shoulders and neck and finally, he whispered, “Belladonna.”

There was a pulse of energy- the light in the garage beneath him flickered, and then there she was, in a shiny black dress and a silver fur coat hanging off her shoulders, all sharp angles and long limbs. She held a pipe in her hand, which she took a drag from and then blew the smoke in his face. Yeah, he’d deserved that.

“I haven’t heard from you in two years, Stephano,” she said.

“We spoke during Christmas, Grandmama,” Steve sighed, avoiding her eyes.

“I’ve been dead for only forty years and my family has already forgotten me!”

Death had not eased her love for drama.

“I didn’t forget you, I just-”

“Nobody loves me!” she wailed, clutching a hand to her chest.

“Of course we love you-”

“Three daughters, two sons, seventeen grandchildren and five great-grandchildren and not one calls me unless they need something!”

“That’s not true-”

“Oh, then this was just a social call? Did you wish to tell me about your relationship with the Nancy girl? Did you mess up again?”

Steve didn’t say anything because she was right, he had messed up with Nancy again, and he also was only calling because he needed her insight. She blew more smoke in his face, and he let it go because he was one of the few in the family who she could do it to. She’d told him once that being intangible was the only bad part of haunting the world as a ghost. Apparently it felt like moving through water that wasn’t wet. Steve couldn’t really wrap his mind around that.

“See? I knew it. Well? What is it you need, my love?” she asked, dramatically sinking onto a box of Christmas decorations, and crossing one leg over the other. Steve bit back a smile. This wasn’t a smiling situation.

“One of my friends is horribly injured, another is dead, and this town is merging with the parallel dimension it’s connected to. I was hoping you’d know what to do.”

Belladonna took another drag from her pipe and nodded, probably because she’d been watching the whole time even if he hadn’t summoned her. She already knew most of it.

“Well, your uncle was always good at mending things. He and a few others are still at the house after celebrating the Spring Equinox with your parents. That little girl could probably use their help. And your father’s collection of books may have something about handling parallel dimensions. But as for the last one- are you sure?”

“Am I sure about what?”

She turned to look him straight in the eyes and he could feel the power behind her look, that she wasn’t actually looking at him, but at something beyond him.

“Are you sure he’s dead?” she asked.

And yes, Steve had been sure. He’d held Eddie in his arms as his body went limp and stiff, and a bit of him went with him, sad that he couldn’t explore the feelings that had sprouted during their attempt at saving the world. But when your undead grandmother questioned something, you started to question it too. So, Steve drove out to the trailer park and followed his grandmother’s translucent form through some woods as she led him to “the spot where the energy is,” whatever that meant, which turned out to be a random patch of dirt. A normal person would probably have started asking questions, but Steve knew his grandmother was waiting for something from the way she stared down at the dead leaves beneath their feet, so he waited too. He squatted on his heels, his bat in one hand and the radio in another.

“Whatever happened to your fencing lessons? That weapon is so gauche,” Belladonna said.

Steve didn’t answer. They’d had this argument already. Instead, he dropped the radio and reached his hand out expectantly. She handed him the pipe and he took a drag and then coughed like it was the first time he’d smoked. She took it back with a judgmental look.

“It’s not my fault you smoke literal tar,” he complained around the smoke slipping from his lips.

“I taught you better. It is your fault,” she said, tossing her perfectly curled hair to the side. Steve had missed this. Now that he had it, he didn’t know why he’d ever let it go.

“I missed you, Bella,” he said.

“Hush, it’s happening,” she said.

Steve looked back down at the earth. Nothing seemed different. He didn’t feel anything weird, either. He looked up at Belladonna, who was staring down as if she could. He turned back to the leaves.

BAM!

A pale hand burst through the earth, black fingernails sharp and dangerous, followed by a forearm and then an elbow and then a shoulder, and finally, a head. Eddie Munson was covered in dirt and blood and stared back at Steve with bright red eyes. Somehow, the look was hot.

“Steve!?” Eddie yelped.

“Holy shit,” Steve said.

Belladonna vanished with a laugh.

[vladajwrites]

Razor’s Edge

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five

Summary; Reader moves to Woodsboro for her senior year of high school. This story take place in the setting of the Scream 4 movie. This story is dedicated to all of the girls living through the current Rory Culkin revival. I love and see you. <3

Also available to be read on AO3 here

It's imperative for me to mention MAJOR trigger warnings for this story; blood, violence, sexual content, alcohol usage, and mentions of abusive situations. I will add and edit tw's as needed.

WC; 4146

Notes; Hello!

The next part should be out relatively soon. Not sure quite yet how many parts will be made and posted. Thank you for any and all support! It truly means the world to me.

(Not Beta Read)

It had been an astonishingly warm night when you returned to the town of Woodsboro. The air around you felt slick with familiar August humidity as you stepped out of the car that once belonged to your father. You stood for a moment, inhaling deeply as if attempting to swallow in the sight around you.

It had been nearly a decade since you had seen the quiet street where your aunt Irina resided. The moon was nearly full, casting a gold tinted glow that rivaled the street lamps near the surrounding homes. Memories of your childhood summers spent rolling in the grass of your aunt’s front yard as she sunbathed beside you flashed through your mind as you stared across the lawn.

A sad smile crept across your lips as you popped the trunk, compiling boxes in an unstable stack within your arms.

You suddenly felt a nervous sting in your stomach as you walked towards the door. Reality seemingly sinking in slowly. You had just turned eighteen only days prior. You dreamt of that birthday for years. It meant that you were now an adult and that in some ways; you were free. Free to leave home and go no contact with your parents. Your parents had plucked you from a town not far from Woodsboro and moved you across the country at the age of nine. They isolated you from the support of any sort of extended family or potential friends. Your mother and father psychically and emotionally tormented you and did so in such a calculating manner that they would never be caught or reprimanded.

You had tried to run away to your aunts once before at the age of fourteen, but your parents had the police bring you back to the home before you could cross the county’s boundary. It was even more difficult to keep in contact with your lovely aunt after that. Your parents monitored the communication between the two of you like a hawk. Your aunt still did what she could to support you and you both knew that when the time came, she would become your safe haven.

You weren’t sure how you’d make your escape, how you would go about hiding the things you were carefully packing away. But it seemed your parents had, by this point, completely checked out. It was as if they quietly understood that you’d all be better off if you parted ways. The final confirmation you needed that this was true was when your dad passed the title of the old car he had kept in the garage and worked on rebuilding over the past years to you just days before your birthday. He committed this action wordlessly, dropping the paperwork in front of your bedroom door to find. You said nothing in return. You knew what it all meant. An action like that from him would never come from a place of love or kindness.

It didn’t take you long after to finish gathering the last of your things. You debated on leaving your parents a note, debated the possibility of initiating a final conversation with them. Using your better judgment, you decided against it. They didn’t deserve anything from you, you knew you’d never receive the closure from them you deserved. Better to just try and forget it all.

You left in the night after hours of pacing your bedroom floor, waiting and listening anxiously until the house grew silent and you could assume your parents were fast asleep. You grabbed your bag containing your phone, wallet, and keys and made your way out to your car that sat adjacent to the curb in front of the Connecticut home that served as your personal hell for nearly a decade.

You started the engine, feeling the car shake as it warmed up. Your hands trembled as they gripped the steering wheel. You were ready, had to be.

Taking a single look back at your home, you felt your heart skip out of step as you caught your mother’s frame looking down at you from her second-story bedroom window. You took your foot off the gas as you met her eyes. You couldn’t have but certain, but by the way her sullen cheeks glinted in the dim night lighting, she appeared to be crying. Her mouth remained pierced and straight, her shoulders and head rigid and stiff in their usual form. Even if she truly were crying, you wouldn’t have been able to bring yourself to care. Too late and far too little, you thought. You snapped your head back to the road and pulled forward down the street, refusing to look back again.

You held your shoulders and back straight, attempting to keep your face stuck in shrewd control. You couldn’t explain the wet, sickly feeling that built and spilled from the corner of your eyes. Couldn’t stop it if you tried.

It wasn’t until you caught a glimpse of yourself in the rearview as you entered the highway that you realized you saw your mother’s face staring back at you. A sudden terrible thought crossed your mind. Could your parents have made you just as cruel and horrible as they were?

You took a deep breath, wiping away the tears that clung to your cold skin. You let your body slack slightly, relaxing the muscles in your face and shoulders. You glanced back up at your reflection once more. No, you thought, there was still a sense of softness in you. You would never be like them. You were going to heal, move forward.

A smile spread across your lips then as another car shot past you. This felt like the first real moment of your life. You reached over, digging in your bag for your phone. You only had one person to call. The phone rang twice before your aunt’s soft-spoken voice answered on the returning line. As if she could read your mind, she asked quietly, “Are you on your way?”

Your smile widened as you answered her, “Yes, yes! I’ll be there in just a few days. I have all my things. I’ll let you know if I run into any trouble.”

The line was silent, you held your breath as you waited for a response. You suddenly felt nervous in those quiet moments. You hadn’t told her that this would be the night you would be leaving. It had all happened so quickly.

Your aunt then exhaled a heavy sigh of relief and your smile returned once more.

“Be safe darling, I’ll speak to you soon. I love you.” Irina spoke.

“Okay, promise I will be. I love you too.” You replied before pressing the button to end the call.

The long drive passed in what now felt like an instant as you stood in Irina’s driveway, boxes in hand, looking up at what would become your new home.

Your aunt Irina greeted you on her front porch, promptly taking one of the small stacked boxes from your arms that hid your face. You sighed in relief at the lightened load.

“Ah dochka, come inside quickly.” Your aunt said over her shoulder as she propped the front door open with foot.

You nodded and followed her, placing the heavy boxes that contained the most important of your belongings on the entryway table beside the stairs. Your aunt carefully placed the box she held on top of the stack as well before turning to face you. You held your arms awkwardly at your side, your fingers twitched as you met your aunt’s gaze. She was all the natural beauty and poise that your mother -her older sister- had without the cutting and sunken look that came from years of contempt and cruelty. You hoped you favored your aunt in that way.

There was a moment of silence shared between the two of you as you took in the sight and presence of one another. Irina’s expression was filled with something indiscernible as she looked you over. You suddenly felt self-conscious in that moment. The last time she had seen you, you were only a child.

“I-“ You began to speak, unsure what your next words would be. You were promptly interrupted as Irina took you into her arms.

“Oh sweet girl, I’ve missed you so much.” Your aunt spoke softly. Her hand slid over your hair, holding your head closer to her own.

You tried your best to get a hold the overwhelming emotions building up inside you as you wrapped your arms tighter around her.

“Listen, don’t worry about any of it right now,” Irina pulled away, holding your shoulders in her hands. “I’ll show you to your bedroom. It’s late. We’ll catch up in all the days to come. As you’re ready, of course.”

She understood you so perfectly. It felt as though no time had passed between the two of you at all. You nodded, wiping away the single tear that slipped past your waterline. “Thank you.” You replied earnestly.

She showed you to your room, helping you carry your things up the stairs. The room was warm and soft, perfectly polished and eclectic, in the style that perfectly encapsulated Irina. You absolutely adored it all.

Your aunt didn’t linger as you swiftly unpacked the essentials you needed for the night. It was nearly reaching the hours of the early morning and you were both physically and mentally well exhausted. You’d let yourself begin to process it all in the morning. For now, you were safe, even happy. It was going to be alright.

The next morning had come and gone. Your aunt woke you with breakfast and the two of you exchanged small pleasantries. In the afternoon Irina stopped you as she caught you on the stairs, a laundry basket stuck to her hip. “We can go tomorrow to enroll you at the high school if you’d like. I have a gap in meetings around noon.”

You picked at your fingernails, tossing up the idea in your head. “It’s okay, I can run by the school on my own tomorrow. I imagine It shouldn’t take me very long.”

Irina furrowed her brow, nodding. “Oh okay then, just shoot me a text when you get everything sorted, will you?”

You smiled and nodded before the two of you resumed your paths apart.

Finding your way to the school the next morning wasn’t too difficult of a task to accomplish. Classes began in a week and to your relief, there were no students hanging near campus yet to be found. Aside from a few members of faculty, the school was entirely deserted.

It didn’t take you much time to locate the staff required to complete your enrollment. The secretary had even exclaimed she knew your aunt quite well. You supposed that everyone must be at least partially acquainted in this town, given its size.

You suddenly felt hesitant as you made your way across the parking lot back to your car. A silver sedan caught your eye as it sped past you. All four windows were rolled down and you could tell the car was full of people that looked just about your age. It seemed you had caught their attention too as you met the eyeline of the driver. She was too far away to make out much detail beyond her short cropped hair and frame.

The thought hadn’t yet occurred to you how difficult it would be to make new friends in a place where nearly everyone grew up with one another. You wished in that moment that you had made more of an effort as a child during your summers spent here to make any friends. But you had always been shy, horribly and painfully shy, as a child. It was just easier to play on your own. In all honesty, you weren’t sure how to make real close friends, let alone keep them.

Still, you shrugged, it would have made this whole transition much easier if you had at least one person near your age in Woodsboro who might have remembered your name.

You tried to keep your mind occupied in the days that followed. It wasn’t much of a hard task to follow. In the afternoon, you mainly kept to your bedroom, flipping mindlessly through a book you had been attempting to finish for the better part of a month. In the mornings you sat in the window bay, hot coffee in hand, remembering the neighborhood boys you used to watch ride by in circles on their bikes. Occasionally, your aunt invited you to eat lunch at the law firm she worked at in town. She’d tell you endlessly how quickly you’d adjust to things once the school year started, reminded you how the home was always open to guests, talked about the possible colleges you could apply to. It was a strange feeling to have someone show so much interest in the day-to-day doings of your life. You figured you’d learn to truly welcome and reciprocate the sentiment in time.

Your nerves had seemed kept safely under control until you began to turn into the Woodsboro High parking lot on the first day of class. Your fingers tapped the steering wheel in anticipation as you pulled into an open parking spot near the back of the lot. Placing the car in the park, you flipped your visor, giving yourself a once over before biting the bullet and getting the worst part of the day on with it. You scolded yourself for unknowingly chewing your lip nearly raw on the drive there, but other than that, you seemed just about alright.

Irina had been so excited to help you get ready for your first day. You knew she had always thought of you as her own daughter. She never had the opportunity to have any children of her own. You gladly let her fuss over your hair and clothing without once interjecting that the curling iron was burning your neck, and the constant outfit changes were exhausting your limited wardrobe. It gave you a sense of confidence, though, knowing that you at least looked your absolute best, regardless of how you felt inside.

You said a silent prayer as you approached the building’s front doors. Groups of students passed by in small droves. Each step felt like sinking through sludge as you noticed the quizzical looks from your new found peers that read ‘outsider.’ Even though your rational brain knew it couldn’t be true, it felt as though everyone in the halls was craning their heads to catch a glimpse. You dug your thumbnail into the palm of your hand as you dropped into an empty chair near the back of your first period homeroom class.

“There’s that new face.” A friendly female voice spoke beside you as she dropped her things on the desk to your right.

You turned to face her and were met by an inquiring smile and a familiar short blonde haircut. You immediately recognized her as the girl you had seen in the school parking lot the day you had registered.

You held out your hand, giving her your name.

She shook your hand in return, “Kirby.” She replied, giving you her own. As the two of you waited for the first bell to ring, you exchanged the usual first introduction sentiments. She introduced you to another girl who sat in the seat in front of you.

“Jill Roberts.” The new girl had stated more matter-of-factly.

“Good to meet you, Jill.” You replied in the same cadence. She gave you a half smile as she onced you over.

You spent the majority of your first few periods staring out of classroom windows or drawing endless little circles on your notebook as your teachers passed around syllabi and gave the same spiel on classroom expectation for the semester. You had learned so many names in just a few hours; you were already struggling to remember even just a handful. You assured yourself it wouldn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things. In a matter of days, most people would lose interest in the new girl thing and you’d slip comfortably by as a nameless face in the considerably smaller student body.

The bell rang for lunch and you were on your feet with your things thrown over your shoulder in a matter of seconds. You carefully squeezed your way through the buzzing hallway and made a direct line to your car, hoping to decompress and catch your breath for a moment.

Just as you planted your first foot on the paved parking lot, you heard your name called, no- shouted, from behind you.

‘Fuck,’ you mumbled to yourself, pivoting in place. It took a moment to locate the person who had called after you. A curly-haired boy awkwardly jogged to catch up, his long-haired counterpart feigned a cooler stepped approach behind him. You couldn’t remember an introduction with either of them.

The curly-haired boy noticing the confused look on your face interjected, halfway catching his breath, “We already got your name from Kirby.” He began, noticing the way your brows furrowed he quickly continued, “I’m Robbie, this is Charlie.” He motioned to the man that stood beside him.

You looked up between the pair, catching Charlie’s line of sight. His eyes dropped just as quickly to his shoes below him, kicking his laces at the ground.

“... Right.” you stated questioningly, dragging your eyes away from the frayed aglet on Charlie’s left shoe to look back up at Robbie.

“Right, yeah,” Robbie stumbled over his next words, “We run the film club. We meet every day after school.” You sucked in your bottom lip, trying to conceal your now amused half smile.

You noticed Charlie now glancing between you and Robbie with dread in his expression at the awkward mess Robbie was attempting to make his way through. Just before Charlie could begin to speak, Robbie rushed to spit out the point he was trying to get to.

“Well, we’d- I’d.” Robbie met Charlie’s eyes for a moment before continuing. “No- we’d love for you to, if you ‘d want to… You should come check it out. After school. Today.”

You rolled the idea over in your head for a moment. You didn’t really believe you belonged anywhere near a film club; you considered yourself an average movie-goer at best. It couldn’t necessarily hurt to go, either. If you really felt out of place, you could just not go back the next day. You squinted up at the pair. Neither of them could meet your eyes. Your aunt would be ecstatic to learn you’d even made an attempt to put yourself out there a bit more. The short contemplative silence hadn’t been a thought that had crossed your mind, but you could tell it was now starting to make them squirm.

“Come on dude, I told you she wouldn’t want to come.” Charlie broke the silence with a quiet plea to Robbie.

Charlie now turned back to face you, “I’m sorry, don’t stress about trying to make it.” The look of defeat in the pair’s expressions brought a pit of sudden guilt in your chest. Just as Charlie grabbed Robbie’s shoulder to drag him back inside the school, you interjected without a second thought.

“I’ll go. I’d love to go. Thank you for the invite.” You drug as much sincerity into your face as you could muster. Both boys stopped in their tracks, exclaiming in unison, “Really?”

Charlie’s eyebrow raised in suspecting confusion.

“Okay, cool! Classroom 120A, right after the last bell.” Robbie called over his shoulder, a wide grin plastered across his face.

You stood for a moment, one foot on the curb, watching the pair make their way back to school. Fixating on the way, Charlie ran his hand through the mess of his long hair.

“See, I told you dude, you just have to make the first move.” You could hear Robbie say, almost out of earshot now. His arm reached out to fall over Charlie’s shoulder, shaking him slightly. Charlie pushed the boy off him. You imagined him rolling his eyes as he brushed off his shoulder.

You laughed to yourself, turning on your heel, heading back to your car to spend the time left of lunch you had in much needed solitude.

The remainder of the school day passed by just about the same way the first half had. In your last class of the day, you took the time counting the heads of the students around you, trying to recount the names of each one you could remember. Once you made your way to the back corner of the room, you noticed Charlie staring down at his lap. He was crumpling, unfolding, then crumpling up the same piece of paper over and over again. You wondered what he could’ve written on that paper, if there was anything written on it at all.

You hadn’t realized how long you sat watching his repetitive movements until he looked up, catching your gaze. His eyes were piercing, deep set, his hair half-way covering the features of his face.

Your face burned hot as you quickly snapped your head back towards the whiteboard in the front of the room.

‘Idiot.’ You groaned in silence to yourself. Out of the very corner of your peripherals, you could feel his eyes still fixated on you from just a row behind. You picked at your nails anxiously, watching the minute hand spin on the classroom clock.

The last bell of the day rang out shortly after and you relaxed into your seat. You slowly gathered your things into your bag on the desk.

“Hey.” A familiar voice spoke beside you. You jumped in your seat at the quiet and sudden proximity. You looked up to meet Charlie’s gaze. He was messing with the loop on the strap of his backpack that rested on his left shoulder. “I can show you to the room we use for film club, if that’d be cool with you.”

You nodded your head up at him. “Yeah, that’s cool.” In all honesty, you had almost completely forgotten about even going.

“Cool.” He said, grabbing your bag off the desk and throwing it over his other shoulder. He began walking to the door, motioning over his shoulder for you to follow him.

You followed closely beside him as you both pushed your way through the hallways packed with students exiting the building. The would-be awkward silence between the pair of you was graciously filled by the loud chatter of people passing by.

“When’d you move back?” You barely caught Charlie’s question. His face was fixed on the wall in front of him.

“Back? I’m sorry, I’ve never lived here.” You replied, “I moved in with my aunt about a week ago.”

He looked over at you, studying your face for a second before turning away again. He nodded his head.

“What about you? How long have you lived here?” You asked, keeping your gaze directed forward as well.

“Born and raised.” He replied. You nodded in response as the two turned a corner. You could see a plaque that read 120A just ahead.

A trio of guys in football garb made their way past, headed in the opposite direction. The closest of the group carried a large bag of equipment at his side that nearly knocked your knee from under you as you crossed paths.

“Ouch,” you mumbled, missing a step. You were alright, truly fine after shaking it off a bit.

Charlie stopped in his tracks beside you. Turning to face the group. “Watch your shit, Anderson.” He called after them.

The carrier of the bag didn’t bother to stop walking, only looking over his shoulder to seemingly size Charlie up. He laughed, “Yeah, alright Walker. You’re not gonna do shit about it.”

You could nearly feel Charlie tense up beside you. Men and their silly egos.

“I’m alright, let’s go please.” You grabbed Charlie’s forearm and pulled him forward towards the room, letting go once you could feel his resistance lessen.

Once in the room, you let out a sigh and took a seat next to Kirby near the center of the room. The meeting, to your surprise, went by well. Charlie and Robbie both seemed much more sure of themselves when they were talking about things they were passionate about. Although you had to admit it was all pretty dorky, you’d never fault them for the devotion in their interests.

You were practically lost throughout the hourlong meeting, but you believed it wouldn’t be too much of a challenge to pick up on things, eventually. It was all sort of interesting, fun even.

You decided on the car ride home that day you’d make sure to attend the next one.

[strapslinger]

August

“How do we expect to be anything when we don’t try to be anything”

ex!ellie x reader

cw: Ellie is a little cold, mention of smoking, she’s mean in some parts but it’s mostly just fluff after the breakup, not really proofread😭

a/n: sorry I haven’t written for ages, I’ve been busy and I kinda just forgot about tumblr for a while (ignore the borders on the photos if their there for you)

You and ellie had been broken up for 2 weeks, you felt like you couldn’t live without her. Ellie was your everything, she helped you through the tough days at school; the longs days at work, and the depressing days at home.

Before you two had broken up all she did was ignore you, she was cold and distant and it hurt. Everything reminded you of her after the breakup. especially the leaves outside that matched her tattoo on her arm, the coffee pot that she had made you coffee in on hard days. It was definitely hard and you missed her, but you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t.

You had never blocked her number or changed her contact name, and it just hurt all the more. You had tried texting her, but she just left you on read so you just stopped texting her altogether. You reminded yourself that she was cold before she even broke up with you.

You thought about her every day and every night, you thought about the pleasure she had given you in the past, the little gifts she gave you when you were feeling sad.

On one cool but warm night, she had texted you. Your heart immediately sank. Why was she texting you this late? You questioned yourself, wondering if she found out something or just wanted something.

“Hey” she texted you, your heart dropped to your ass. You left her on read for a few minutes and then you texted her back. “hi.” You didn’t want to see her or even text her back, but yet you forced yourself to because you wanted to be something again.

The next day you had to go into school, you had to see Ellie. You got through the day and then you had PE for your last period and Ellie was also in that class. You went into the changing room and saw Ellie, she gave you a cold glare but walked over to you after getting changed. You gave her a slight smile but she didn’t reciprocate it.

“what do you want, Ellie?” you asked coldly. Your expression remained cold and threatening while her expression changed to an apologetic one. She missed you.

“This is gonna sound fucking stupid..but I miss you.” She spat out, this made your heart hurt because you had been so cold to her.

She looked you up and down and looked as if she was expecting a response to that, your face softened and you now had a look of surprise with a mix of empathy on your face.

she kept going on, she sounded genuine like she really did miss you. “I miss your voice, I miss the way you kissed me after a hard day at work, I miss when you would help me with my homework, I miss everything about you and everything reminds me of you.”

Everything she said made you question why she even broke up with you, you knew it was because of a stupid reason, but then you got an idea, to invite her over after school.

“I miss you too..how about you come over after school to talk about it..? We can grab food too if you want.” You said without even thinking about it. You missed her loved her. You wanted her back in your life.

She nodded her head and opened her arms for a hug, you almost jumped into her arms with how much you missed her touch. Her touch was intoxicating, it felt like a drug.

“I love you” she said in a warm, low tone. You reciprocated the same words as you clung onto her. “I love you too”

After school, you drove home and she drove to your house, you made sure to get her favorite food and yours too which was yours as well. She got to your house a few minutes after you had gotten there. You let her in and led her to your room, your parents weren’t home so you were open to doing whatever she wants to do.

She still had her backpack and you had wanted to do what you and her did best, which was smoke. You got out a pipe and some weed, but before you were able to open the bag, Ellie held out her own weed. “You can have this, it’s for me being an asshole a few weeks ago.”

You took it and stuffed the bowl with it and lit it, taking a huge hit. You coughed a little but you handed it to her after you were done. She took a few smaller hits and passed it back to you. You and her passed it around until the bowl was finished, when you were feeling pretty high, you and her had gotten pretty close again. You leaned in and gave her a peck on her lips, you felt happy and relaxed and you giggled like you had never done before.

You looked at her, you felt happy and content when you were with her. She leaned in and kissed you again, wrapping her arms around your waist and hips.

“How do we expect to be anything when we don’t try to be anything” she said, looking at you with loving eyes.

[fire-emblem-drabbles]

Paradise Lost

Pairing: Eden x reader

Description: You weren't gonna give Bailey any of your hard earned money, not this week. Thinking you'll fare better in the woods than town this time of night, you head there. Your plan was to stay in the caves by the lake, and figure out a better situation in the morning. You don't make it that far.

Rating: Not sfw

Content Warning: fem reader with fem parts, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Guns, chasing, kidnapping, restraints, dub con/non con, first time, yandere , predator/prey, a disgusting amount of pet names honestly, as always ask to tag

Word Count: 5282

Notes: I wanted to get this out by Halloween, obviously that didn't happen. I've had this idea for a while and the draft since *checks* August 2023, apparently. It's not even the oldest one I just live like this! Eden may seem ooc but I was having a lot of fun so I just ran with it.

Bailey was out of his fucking mind if he thought he was gonna get any of your hard earned cash. You work your ass off every day, foraging in the woods and growing anything in that pitiful little garden by the orphanage, and he thinks he can just take your money now? As if. You wouldn’t let that happen.

Today was the promised day for the money. You couldn’t even remember how much it was, only that it was too much and you wouldn’t let him bully you into complacency. However… that did leave you out, alone, as darkness was slowly closing over the town. You didn’t exactly have a place to crash, either, so as you slowly walk down Domus street you try to consider your options.

You could walk down to the hospital and stay in the waiting room? They might shoo you out if you were caught sleeping though… Maybe you could try calling Sydney? But he was probably still at the church… and it wouldn’t be right to bother him. He probably wouldn’t have the heart to say no. You could break into the massage parlor and rest there as long you were out before they opened. But you had been hoping to pick up some shifts in the future, so that probably wasn’t the best idea…

Where did that leave you, though? Even if the summer air was balmy and warm, there wasn’t a chance in hell you were waiting on the streets tonight. And there wasn’t much you could do with your time and you weren’t quite scared enough yet to hit up the strip club for work. All that was left for you were the woods that had already given you so much. You fancied yourself better in a fight versus a wolf than another person anyways.

So with mind made up and confidence in your step, you head from Domus street into the woods, passing by Gwylyn’s shop and further into the welcoming trees. You always did feel more at home here anyways. You can’t help but smile as you pass by some of your favorite foraging spots and there’s a part of you that kind of wants to do a little now but you push that aside.

In the forest proper there wasn’t that many fantastic spots to rest. But then you recall the set of caves by the lake. Hopefully this late at night your schoolmates were done messing around out there. Plus, you knew a shortcut there to! It would be no problem, especially since you don’t have school tomorrow. So with new hop in your step, you begin to move that way, unbothered by the new darkness around you as the forest seems to come alive.

The sounds of insects and birds comforts you, even when you can hear the occasional wolf call in the distance. You’re already close to the lake when you pause in your step. You can hear rustling ahead, so you duck down to see… a foxboy, looking to and fro as he digs up some bird eggs. You don’t fancy yourself as someone super sneaky but you can’t help yourself, carefully sneaking forward; eyes not on the precious bird eggs but his fluffy tail. You never wanted to pet a tail more than this one…!

The foxboys ears perk up at a sound, and you stiffen. You were so close! But as he quickly turns his gaze to you, he frowns and speaks. “Trying to catch me off guard and steal?”

“N-no!” You sputter, surprised he’s even bothering to speak to you when he easily could have taken his goods and ran. “I um… you looked very soft, I was sneaking to see if I could manage to pet you a little…” You admit sheepishly to him. The foxboy changes in demeanor, turning to you with a grin.

“So you just wanted to get close to me?” You don’t like how you can see the glint of his fangs when he grins. You try to back up away but with you still crouching, the fox is able to leap on you and pin your prone form to the forest floor. “You should have just said so human, I’m unmated…” He murmurs leaning in close to you. Panic starts to seize you as you struggle in his grip.

“Not what I meant! Let me go please please…!” You try to raise your knees to shove him off you but this foxboy is stronger than you anticipated. Your every move seems futile as the foxboy quickly works to take off your clothing. You can’t help the scream you let out, desperation passing by your lips. You’re too far out for Gwylyn to hear you, though. No one could save you from this…

The foxboy digs his nails into your soft skin as he rips away your pants. You close your eyes as tears start to prick at them from the pain. You take a deep, shuddering breath to stop yourself from crying before a thundering nose rings out, blinding the dark forest a moment and clearing your running thoughts for a long moment.

As everything seems to settle, you realize it’s the unmistakable noise of a gun shot, and it has the foxboy skittering off faster than you can even open your eyes. You’re shaking, struggling to sit up and pull up your pants at the same time. In the dying light, you can make out the vague figure of a person, shotgun still smoking in their hands.

For a moment, neither of you speak. You aren’t sure if you should thank them, or start running yourself. The air is thick and uncertain, and you swallow lump forming in your throat as you look up at the person who saved you. Would they prove to be an actual savior, or just as bad as the beast before them?

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out in the woods so late at night?” His voice is low, gruff. Even as he lowers his weapon, there’s an undeniable edge to him. Something that demands to be respected.

“Trying to stay out of trouble,” You start, eyeing his dark figure carefully. Thankfully, your pants aren’t entirely destroyed and you’re able to wear them properly, to stand tall and wary in front of your new company. “What has you saving strange girls in the middle of the woods so late?” You ask back, dusting forest debris off yourself. Trying to stay calm, casual. Hoping for the best in him.

“Was hoping to do some hunting tonight.” You don’t like the way he smirks, the way he shifts his weight from one leg to another and cracks his knuckles in his hands. “Think I’ve found the best prey these woods have to offer, anyhow.” Your throat seizes as he says this. You don’t think-- can’t think you just move.

But where is there to run? Your wellies hold up under thundering footfall but you can hear him behind you, hear him laughing as he follows suit. You can’t help but wonder if he would follow you towards town. Or if it would even be safe? There’s so much to consider, so much to avoid, the world around you quickly growing darker and darker in betrayal.

You’re coming across the river, you can hear the rushing water promising you freedom just ahead. If you could swim across, hell even jump in and just let the water take you, you’re sure your pursuer wouldn’t follow. You just had to push a little further, want it a little more, to run, run, run!

That is, until, you feel his weight crashing into you, feel your body crumple under his as he grabs you from behind. The sound of rushing water is so distant now, behind the sound of your own running blood, of your labored breathing and drumming heartbeat.

“Aren’t you smart,” He coos, grunting as you try to wriggle out from under him. But he’s stronger than you, happy to pin you down in the dirt and whisper his victories in your ear. “Trying to lose me in the river, eh? If only you were a little faster…” He tuts softly. Gods, even through your clothing, he could feel how warm you were. How soft. A prize well worth the chase, no matter how short the hunt was.

“Pl, please.” It’s difficult to cough up the word, not when he’s still leaning down on you, applying pressure directly on your overworked lungs. “I, I just…!” Oh goodness, were you crying? “I, I never… I haven’t…!” You can’t even finish your sentence, hiccups threatening your words until a sob racks your body and cuts you off entirely.

“Oh darling,” He almost pities you, but the rush of blood that went straight to his dick makes it hard to think. “Saving yourself for me?” He can’t help but growl as he leans in closer to your neck, taking a moment to truly take all of you in. He had been looking for someone like you. Someone soft and sweet and innocent, someone he could make into his perfect partner. Someone who didn’t know how to fight back.

“...S’pose least I can do is make it special. We’re close to home as it is.” You feel your stomach drop as you hear a belt being undone. You can’t help but close your eyes and whimper, expecting to feel the heat of his body that much closer to you. Instead, you feel warm leather wrap around your wrists and gasp out as you’re unceremoniously lifted and tossed over his shoulders.

Held over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, you have to give your mind a moment to catch up. You could see his shotgun bouncing along his back as he walked, unbothered by your weight. You could feel the ache beginning to start in your shoulders and elbows, forced at an awkward angle where your arms are tied behind your back. You feel your lungs start to settle into normalcy as you can finally breathe again. When you find your voice again, you can only ask “...Home?” The word feels hollow on your tongue. You don’t even know if you have it in you to fight back against him. It all felt inevitable at this point.

“Your new home.” He corrects with a smile to his tone. “Our home now, I reckon.” You decide to continue on in blissful silence as you he takes you farther into the dark of the forest. Not much time seems to have passed as the forest begins to clear out. As he moves forward, you can see dark shapes that aren’t trees or bushes, nothing you can make out now. Your not left long to wonder as you’re brought indoors, and placed down roughly on a bed.

The cabin is well lit, but sparely decorated. You can’t hardly take it in before your yanked closer to the man. Holding you by your bound wrists in one hand, he places another binding on you with his other; a collar, complete with a leash, that he wastes no time wrapping around the wrought iron frame of the bed. You were truly trapped and at his whim now. When he finally speaks again, it seems to spark you out of your stupor. When had you begun to cry so much? You could hardly see his face through the blur of them.

“I’m gonna release your hands now.” The look on his face is stern. There’s a deep crease between the lines of his eyes, and you don’t know if this man has ever worn something other than a frown on his face. “If you’re a good girl for me, this can be nice for both of us.” He places his large, calloused hands over the tie on your wrists. “Can you be a good girl?” His whisper might have meant to been seductive or calming, but it sounded grating in your ears. His deep tone promised nothing good for you.

“I’ll... be a good girl for you.” You dare not raise your voice above a whisper; you don’t move as you see him grin slightly, see a flush come to his face. You don’t even move as one of his hands comes to cup your cheek, wiping away stray tears.

“Good girls get to feel good.” He slowly unbinds the worn leather belt. He’s watching you closely, but you still don’t move, even as your wrists are freed. He looks you over as the belt is tossed aside. “Why don’t you lay down for me, sweetheart?” His pet names make you feel sick. He rubs your sore wrists, even as you move roboticly into place on the bed for him. His hands pet along your soft body, ogling you through your torn shirt and moving to look you in the eyes again. “You really are a sight for sore eyes.” he sighs, so content. You wonder if you’re the first person he’s shared this bed with. Wonder if you’ll be the last.

“Why are you doing this?” Your words seem to surprise him. They surprised you too; he was already getting ready to tear your shirt the rest of the way off your body, but your words stop his movement. “Y-you don’t have to. I-I can still be good for you, but we can… we can…” Your words die down as you take in the darkening look on his face. One last, pathetic attempt for mercy. One that is quickly quashed.

“Oh, darling.” He looks at you; looks at you all soft and sweet, and at his mercy. “You’re gonna be good for me, or you’re gonna see what happens to bad girls.” He frowns at you, as if it were obvious. “And don’t you want me to be good to you for your first time?” He looks at you expectantly, an eyebrow raised. You blink once, confused. But soon you realize; he wants you to play along. You could be pathetic, you could be weak and scared. All the more excuse to comfort and coddle you; you had to play your part right, or he would play his wrong too.

“P-please be nice to me. I’ll be good, I promise.” He likes it when you beg. He likes it when tears spring to your eyes and you go all soft and pathetic for him. Wanted to be the predator to your prey. “Just don’t hurt me.” Wanted to be the one to protect you, too. The best of both worlds, it seemed.

“And I won’t, honey.” He coos, leaning in close to your face. “Just as long as you take everything I give to you.” You find yourself nodding, too scared to speak when he’s nose to nose with you. At that, he smiles; it’s ill fitting on his face. He looks too calm, too serene.

Its worse, perhaps, that he wants to talk you through it. “I gotta get you out of these ruined clothes now, baby.” He’s starting to breath heavy, eyes growing darker with desire. You can only nod and watch as he uses his brute strength to rip open your shirt, tossing it to the side. Your bra is thankfully, treated much more gently, slid from your body until your breasts are bared open to the hungry gaze of the man before you.

He takes his time admiring them. His touch is soft, almost reverent. Far too gentle for what this is; the pads of his rough fingers catch on your soft skin, but it doesn’t stop him. Doesn’t keep him from palming your flesh, and watching with wide, breathless gaze as your nipples harden under him. “You’re such a treat.” You think you might just be, from the way he’s all but drooling over you.

Perhaps you were made to be consumed.

And God, does he ever savor; his touch moves south, ever slow. You wish he would get it over with. Wish he wasn’t so careful, that he would take what he had obviously won already. But he doesn’t; he traces formless designs along the soft dip and curves of your body, reaching the hem of your barely together pants. He lets out a heavy breath through his nose, catching your eyes. “You’re lucky I got to you in time. Gonna treat you so much better than that beast could have.” Would he, though?

The foxboy would have had the decency to make it quick. Would leave you alone after abusing you. Wouldn’t force you to look at him through it all. He wouldn’t pull down your pants with such reverence, with some sort of sick look of love in his gaze.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good.” His voice had taken on a husky tone, gravel and desire taking up space in his throat as he sees the dark spot on your panties. “And look at you, already bein’ good for me and getting nice and wet.” He pets your pussy, running his fingers over the soft cotton, taking in the shiver that passes through your body. He has his eyes on his prize now, though, and with it so close he can’t help but move fast, tearing your panties off you in one quick motion.

Laying before him, wide eyed, naked, and so, so afraid, you finally find it in you to speak again. “W-what’s your name?” It’s stupid. You shouldn’t care. You should be finding a place far away in your mind to hide while you let this happen. But you can’t run from this. Can’t run from his thumb rubbing circles on the top of your thigh, can’t hide from the drumming of his fingers on your hips. If he’s going to do this to you, if he’s going to keep you here and do so much more… You deserve that much.

“Eden.” Its entirely out of place-- for here, for him. If this was anything, it was paradise lost.

Eden is much quicker in removing his own clothing. A small mercy, perhaps; you felt suffocated in the anticipation of it all. But all too soon, the both of you were naked; Eden, hard and wanting over you, small and trembling.

“Shh, darling. I know…” He coos, scooting in close to you to pull you in a kiss. Its wrong; soft, wanting. Why does he bother with the theatrics? Why won’t he just take what he wants from you, and get it over with? Instead, he goes so achingly slow; tender touches that drive heat down where his fingers lay. His kiss is so full of longing your teeth ache from the feeling of it. “I’ll take such good care of you.” He pulls your legs apart, pushing his knees between them. The starting of a home between your very ribs.

“Protect you,” His fingers glide over your bare cunt, barely there. Were you with a man, or a ghost? What had happened to the bravado of the strong hunter that caught you? “Provide for you…” He teases your entrance with two fingers, collecting your arousal and swirling oh so gently. “Let me take care of you.” Again, he leans in to kiss you.

This time, you kiss back. It can’t have been good; your eyes are closed, screwed tight so you don’t see that love struck awe on his face and you can still feel yourself trembling, trying to move your lips against his in a way you think might please him. You have to be good for him. You have to.

“You are taking care of me,” Your voice is still soft, so afraid to speak up when you can feel him knuckle deep in you, fingering you in a careful, controlled way.

“Then relax for me,” he laughs softly, eyes moving from your face two the way your pussy clenches to his fingers. “You’re so tight, baby. You gotta relax if you want it to feel good.” He coos, those rough pads of his fingers rubbing at your g spot and having your gasping.

“I-I just…” You take a deep, fortifying breath. In. Out. In. Out. Could you manage to relax? You open your eyes to look at him, but he has the same look on his face. Obsessive, full of desire and something you can’t quite read.

“I got ya, pretty girl. You’re okay with me.” An airy chuckle leaves him as he looks to your face. “You can relax with me.” He promises. You try to. You really, really do.

You close your eyes and just try to focus on the feeling of it; lazy movements of his fingers, in and out of you. His big, warm, hand, resting on your thigh, sneaking over to your pussy to brush against your clit. It sends a jolt through you, has you gasping and clenching on his fingers and opening your eyes to look at him.

“That feel good?” He laughs, the sound almost cruel. You nod slightly, unsure if you even wanted it to feel good. You just wanted it to be over with.

“Use your words, sweet girl. You gotta tell me when it feels good.” You can’t help but whimper when he pumps his fingers and rubs your clit in tandem. You keen and chase the friction by bucking your hips, but he suddenly stops. “Told you, good girls speak when spoken too.” His warning is light, mirthful. It was a game right now but that could very quickly change. You swallow thickly.

“M-more, please.” You look up with big, wet eyes. He smiles, pleased with your quick compliance, and continues at the same pace as before. “Faster, Eden.” Your hands had remained glued to your side most this entire time, but now you’re tempted to grab his wrist, to grind against him for some sort of relief.

“That’s a good girl.” His voice is a growl, the tone deep with his desire. You feel him scissor inside you, pushing his long fingers in and thrusting quickly. You just had to focus on that motion. Focus on the electric feeling welling up inside you and chase it. Grind against the delicious feeling of his deft fingers rubbing your clit and just let go--

“I think you’re good and ready now.” It’s a near full system shock as he retreats his hands from you. You hear yourself whine loudly, before sensations come back to you and you open your eyes. Eden has a shit eating grin, even as he brings his fingers up to his mouth to taste of you. As you take deep breaths you dare a look between his legs. His fingers were nothing like what he was packing between his legs-- it was too big. He was too big.

Towering above you, as he traps you between his wide knees. He pushes your legs open wide, wider to accommodate him. “Relax just like I told ya too honey. It’ll be okay.” He reaches to grab your hand and you might had puked if you weren’t so scared. He wanted it to be romantic in every sense of the word, fitting his big fingers through yours with one hand, and holding his cock in the other. “It’s gonna feel a little uncomfortable at first, and I know you don’t like talkin much,” he chuckles, his head flush with your entrance. He looks into your eyes, making sure you hear him. “but you gotta tell me your okay, or if I need to stop.”

Why did it have to be him? Someone so accommodating. You might have had a shred of dignity left to argue with him (to fight back) if he had been mean. If he had hurt you, if he had just taken you by the river like the beast he was trying so hard not to be. But it had to be special. You, had to be special.

“Okay.” You know he won’t move until you tell him too. Perhaps he could hear how fast your heart was beating, or maybe see how your chest was rising and falling in your labored breathing. “Y-you can put it in.” Stupid girl who couldn’t even speak without stuttering. Of course he was going to treat you like a doll.

Somehow, he finds it in him to go slow; he sinks into your welcoming heat with a loud hiss. “Fuck, baby. You’re gonna be the death of me.” You don’t how far in he is, don’t dare to look as you seize up and scrunch your face. It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it might but it was still uncomfortable. “Oh baby, you gotta relax.” He laughs as he sees your face. He squeezes the hand he holds again, his free one now coming up to cup your cheeks. “Let me see your eyes, pretty girl.” Like the obedient thing you are, you open them.

“Feels weird,… Eden.” You shift uncomfortably under him. Its not enough to deter him, nothing would be at this point, but it does soften him. He likes it when you call him by his name. Must make him feel closer than the two of you really are.

“I know baby, it’ll feel good soon though. D’you feel like you could take more?” He lets out a heavy breath through his nose. How much he was holding back for you, you couldn’t be certain. You bite your lip, and decide it would be better to get it over with.

“Slow, please.” You had never felt so small as you do now. But as he pushes more of his length into you, you both gasp. You grasp on to his forearm, clench his hand as he pushes. You don’t tell him to stop.

It’s uncomfortable, the feeling of being so full. He must have bottomed out, from the way he’s panting heavy and looking down at you with half lidded eyes. “Honey baby,” You open your eyes again, looking into his. “You feel like heaven, pretty girl. Please, tell me to move.” He grunts out the words, looking for any sign from you.

“I still need, need a second.” You take a deep breath, whimpering as you shift a little. He hisses again, gripping your hip tight a moment before lessening his grip.

“Let me make it better, baby.” He’s quick to move his hand from your hip back over to your clit, rubbing small, quick, circles on it. The sudden friction has you gasping and involuntarily clenching around him, the both of you groaning at the sudden feeling. “Shh, I know honey.”

“S-slow, please. Slow down.” You keen and stress again, until Eden slows his movements, circling your poor clit with more deliberate movements. At this you take a deep breath, and close your eyes.

“Aww, my poor girl.” He coos, watching you. “I think you’re ready, aren’t you?” God, he sounds desperate. He probably is. Even if you aren’t quite ready, Eden was pretending to give you the choice.

“O...okay,” You grip the bed, taking a big intake of breath as he starts to pull out of you. Slowly, until just his head sits you than back in. You just had to focus on the sensation; of his fingers, starting to pick up pace on your clit. Of his cock, dragging against your pussy in a way that’s not entirely unpleasant. You just couldn’t look at him. At the way he held you like someone precious, how his eyes held such tenderness and concern and desire.

“Look at me, darling. Need to see you’re okay.” He pants and you unscrunch your face. When had you gotten all wound up? “Oh there’s my pretty girl.” He grins and laughs softly when you look to him. He’s picked up the pace, hand leaving your clit to hold your hip in place as he finally takes his prize. “So wet for me, so good.”

He’s starting to lose himself, like the beast he is. Thoughts of gentleness are all but abandoned as he takes and takes from you. You can’t help the soft noises and moans you make; if you were good, this would be over soon. He would take what he wanted from you and it would be over.

Until the next time, of course.

“E-Eden, I’m close.” You had been focusing so hard on that little bundle of feel good in you, you failed to realize just how brutal Eden had gotten. Slamming into your hips, bullying his cock into your virgin hole again and again. Struggling to maintain his pace, eager to feel you.

“Me too darlin’, it’s okay. You can cum when ever you want.” He was out of breath, leaning over you and looking down at you before devouring your lips. This time, he is consuming; he steals your lips, your breath, your very thoughts with the want and hunger in his kiss.

You gasp in surprise as your orgasm hits you, moaning into Eden’s mouth and clenching your legs around his waist. At this, he groans, barely pulling from your lips to stutter his hips once, twice, into your welcoming heat and cumming into your poor pussy.

You want to stay in that blissful moment. You grind against his spent cock, eager to chase the little after waves and hide from the upcoming moment. But Eden merely lets out a soft groan, pulling from you slowly and carefully, to your chagrin.

“Shh baby, there’ll be more to come.” He chuckles at your little whine. You come back to yourself, breathing heavy and looking up at him with big, wide eyes. You were covered in a cold sweat, could feel his cum in you and cooling on your inner thighs.

God, that really happened. He was still there, looking at you. You could feel the weight of the collar around your next, his eyes watching you. You were stuck here with Eden. You didn’t even have it in you to question him as he settles down into the bed next to you, happily pulling you into his arms. He seems to tire quick, sighing in content as he wraps his arms around your waist, and rests his chin in the gap between your head and shoulder.

“You’re gonna like it here, promise.” He seems to grow softer before rest. “Just have to get you use to life out here. It’ll be rough-- but we’ve got each other.” You close your eyes and try to ignore him. Rest would be your respite-- tomorrow, you could face this growing problem.

Tomorrow, you would face the trauma of being kidnapped. Tomorrow, you would deal with the consequences of losing your virginity. Tomorrow, you would see Eden’s face in the light of day and you wouldn’t even be able to hate him. Yes, tomorrow, it would be so much worse.

But tonight, you are tired. Tonight, you can pretend he’s someone you love. Tonight, it was all okay. Because you were good, you were sweet and cute and pathetic and everything he liked. And if you could continue to be just that, you would find a way out of this fine mess.

“Oh, and darling?” He hums the words in your ear, as close to a whisper as his gruff voice can make. “Don’t think I ever got your name…”

You pretend you’ve fallen asleep. Perhaps the only thing worse than his deep voice calling you those pet names, would be him calling your name as he looks at you with that lovesick gaze. No, you are already asleep; Eden sighs but doesn’t try to wake you. He readjusts against you once, and than mutters.

“Guess I’ll see in the morning…”

[lupinmoonlight]

Could you do smth like they meet again after years??? She's a professor and he too so she saw him at the first day in the great hall and after that they run into each other in the teachers' room. They were friends when they went to school and they were always attractedby each other.

Thank you and btw I love your writing:)

Lost and Found

Masterlist AO3

Summary - You and Remus Lupin had a crush on each other ever since you were students at Hogwarts but never had the courage to even speak. You spend the next 20 years living your separate lives, you as an Auror, and he, just surviving. Unable to live under the stress of your profession anymore, you retire and start teaching at Hogwarts, still hoping to fill the void Remus had left behind. In September 1993, everything changes. (3,190 words)

Warnings - Fluff, cheesy, angst, a bit of hurt/comfort, a bit of self-hatred, kissing, mention of wizarding war and lost of loved ones, my grammar (english is not my first language), not proof read.

Notes - I am almost ashamed of posting this considering I received this request over a month ago. I am so sorry anon, I have been traveling all of August. Thank you so much for your request and kind comment. I hope you like this one! (sorry if it's too cheesy I got carried away lol)

June 1978

One last glance, that's all you wanted. You pulled your hair back, looking discreetly across the Great Hall. As always, Remus was there, just a few seats away. He looked sad, just as sad as you, but it couldn't be for the same reason. The warm, golden rays of the sun reached through the windows and danced across his face, as if the sky itself was trying to comfort him. It graced his scars, making them glow a beautiful shade of gold. You were doomed. Absolutely doomed. And sad. And in love. And doomed. 

You would always sit close, steal glances, exchange the occasional smile in the library. You had become experts at unsaid conversations, your hearts screaming out words that your lips never uttered. 7 years of unspoken love, of quick glances, of butterflies in your stomach, of hoping he would sit next to you in potions, of worrying when he would disappear for a few days. You knew why, it was easy enough to figure out for anyone who paid close attention. But you didn't care. You loved him for 7 years. 7 years that were about to be ripped away from you. 

Remus felt your gaze and looked up. Your eyes met, and for a split second, time seemed to stop. You wanted to say something. I love you. But the lump in your throat held your words hostage. The weight of the impending silent goodbye threatened to shatter the fragile world you had created. 

As breakfast came to an end, you all began your journey towards Hogwarts Express. The station was alive with chatter, laughter, and tearful goodbyes. But amidst the chaos, there were two souls whose worlds had never been more silent. 

You found yourself in a compartment and gazed out the window, lost in thoughts, watching what had become your second home for 7 years slowly disappear in the distance. Every time the train jolted, you wished it would be Remus entering your compartment, as if he would be braver than you. Why didn't you go to his compartment? You were a coward that's why. Because being rejected would hurt more than saying goodbye. 

Remus sat a few compartments away, his heart pounding in his chest. Despite the presence of his three best friends, he felt alone. The knowledge that this journey might be his last with you was gnawing at his soul. 

The train finally pulled into King's Cross, and students disembarked, eagerly searching for their families. You made your way through the crowd, hoping, stupidly praying for one last moment with Remus. As you approached the barrier between the platform and the muggle world, you took a deep breath and looked back. And there he was, Remus, looking just as lost as you felt. Your eyes met across the platform, and everything went quiet, blurry. 

You crossed the barrier and found yourself on the muggle side of the platform and looked back once more, catching a fleeting glimpse of Remus, who seemed to be vanishing amidst the crowd. You felt a visceral ache. A lump formed in your throat, stubborn and solid, just as you had been during those 7 years, refusing to admit your feelings. You hated yourself. Coward, you kept telling yourself. But you loved him. Was teenage love supposed to be this painful? Because if yes, you were done with it. Never again, you thought. You wiped away the unshed tears from your eyes, put on your most determined face on, and went to your parents waiting in the crowd. You had a career to build, and Aurors were not made of lovesick teenagers. 

1981 - 1991

After graduating, the world outside Hogwarts proved to be colder and crueler than you had imagined. The First Wizarding War was a brutal, heart-wrenching time. As planned, you took the path of an Auror, but not for the same reasons you had wanted. Rather, it was in a desperate attempt to right the world's wrongs, to lose yourself, to numb yourself. It was your refuge, but it was also a painful reminder of the war's cost, a daily confrontation with terror and death. Was Remus alive? The question gnawed at you the moment you opened your eyes every morning. It consumed you. You had not seen each other in over 10 years, but the mere thought of him losing his life felt like someone was ripping you open with their bare hands, no magic. Maybe that's what drove you, in the end, to be an Auror. Stupid teenage love. 

The horrors of your profession haunted you every night. You had been dishonest with yourself. Sure, you wanted to "right the world's wrongs". But really, every time you were out on a mission, you were looking for him, the boy, now man, with sandy hair, with golden scars, with the softest voice, kindest eyes, shyest smile. But he was never there. So you gave up and did everything you could to bury every memory of him as deep as possible, unreachable, and decided to try and go teach other lovesick teenagers. At least then, you would feel at home. 

And home, you were. The old headmaster was still there, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. Professor McGonagall, head of your house years ago, welcomed you back with the expression of a proud mother. In her eyes, you had made it. You had been successful. An Auror retiring to teach young witches and wizards. But you didn't feel successful, you felt broken, empty. And the only other colleague who seemed to reflect that void was Severus. You had been surprised to see him as a teacher. The man had always been isolated, grim-looking, sad. He reminded you of a dementor, and maybe that's why you enjoyed sharing a cup of tea with this old classmate in the staff room, to torture yourself and forget about your lost love. Had he really been a dementor, you don't even think you would have been affected because all that was left was nothing. Longing. Hurt. Despair. 

Yet, in your first term as a teacher, you had this stupid hope. Maybe. Maybe Remus would walk through the Great Hall. Of all four troublemakers, he was the prefect, after all. Of course he would be a teacher. You had been so obsessed with this idea that you started losing sleep months before the term started. You surveyed the staff table like a hawk, looking for him. You were going mad. Here you were, grown, accomplished, yet still obsessing over your teenage love, retracing your steps through the halls like you used to 20 years ago to catch only a glimpse of him. Except now you knew he wouldn't be there. 

September 1993

You sat at the long staff table, your eyes idly scanning the crowd of eager young faces gathered in the Great Hall. You were numb. Not even waiting for anything anymore. Just going through the motions. Professor McGonagall had just finished calling out the names of the first-year students when the staff entrance at the side of the Hall creaked open. 

You turned your head reflexively, expecting another late-arriving student or perhaps a staff member who'd lost track of time. What you did not expect was the sight that greeted you, freezing you in your seat. 

A man stepped into the Great Hall, pausing for a moment to soak in the ambiance as if he too were revisiting old memories. Older and more weathered than you remembered, his sandy hair was now tinged with grey, and his face bore scars that were definitely not there during your Hogwarts years. His robes, though neat, were faded and had seen better days. But it was his eyes- those gentle blue eyes, filled with a unique blend of sorrow and kindness- that told you everything you needed to know. 

Remus. 

Your heart was pounding so loud in your chest that you were sure the entire Hall could hear it. The moment his eyes met yours, he too froze in place, as if the mere sight of you had rooted him to the ground. A mixture of emotions swirled in his gaze- surprise, confusion, and something softer, more intimate, that you hadn't seen in anyone's eyes for a long time. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, unbidden but not unwelcome, as you shared a look so intense, it was as if no one else existed. A look that whispered of years lost, of what could have been, and- perhaps- of what still might be. Not a word was spoken, but in that moment, volumes were said, a dialogue only you could understand. 

The gravity of the moment was so strong that you barely registered Remus moving again, navigating his way through the Hall to join the staff at the table. As he sat down beside you, the familiar scent of him struck you like a freight train- parchment, coffee, and a hint of pine trees. It was intoxicating, transporting you back to a simpler time, back to late-night study sessions and furtive glances. Your cheeks flushed as you realized that the empty chair next to you would be his for the entire year. There you were, a lovesick teenager again. 

You found yourself struggling to maintain your composure as Dumbledore rose to his feet to introduce the new staff member. 

"Before we continue, I'm pleased to welcome Professor R.J Lupin, who's kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," he announced, his eyes twinkling as he gestured towards Remus. 

The students erupted into applause as Remus stood up awkwardly, a sheepish smile on his face. You found yourself unable to clap, your hands trembling in your lap as you watched him. It was surreal to see him here, after all these years. 

As soon as the ceremony ended, before the feast even began, Remus got up from his seat and made his way out of the Great Hall almost immediately, without saying a word. He looked almost...flustered? Impossible, you thought. YOU were flustered. How could he be? 

For days after your wordless reunion, you and Remus moved in parallel orbits, close yet never intersecting. The tension between you was palpable; an emotional undercurrent that resonated through every stolen glance and momentary brush of your eyes. You would catch him staring at you across the Great Hall during meals, only for him to look away, flustered, when you met his gaze. He would spot you in the corridors, seemingly engrossed in conversation with Professor McGonagall, but he knew you were acutely aware of his presence. 

You both longed to talk, to share the feelings that had overwhelmed you during that first eye contact, yet you were both paralyzed by a mix of fear, vulnerability, and the weight of years that had gone by. Remus, scarred by the war, lost everyone he loved most, was terribly afraid of loving again. And you, scarred by years of void, searching, numbing, were terribly afraid of being rejected. 

The tension reached its peak one fateful evening when you found yourselves alone in the staff room. You had come to fetch some papers you had left behind, while Remus had sought the space for its quiet ambiance to prepare for his next lesson. As you entered, you were met by the aroma of ancient books, polished wood, and a hint of brewing tea. Remus was standing there, looking startled but then quickly regaining his composure. 

"Ah, good evening," he stuttered, his voice tinged with the nervousness he felt. It was the first time you heard his voice in 20 years. It was deeper, but just as rich, just as soft, making you feel just as weak. 

You felt your cheeks flush as you stepped further into the room. "Good evening," you responded, your voice a half-octave higher than you intended. 

It was awkward, the air was thick with unspoken sentiments and unanswered questions. Remus cleared his throat and offered a formal, almost painfully awkward introduction. 

"You might not remember me, I'm R-" 

Might not remember him? Was he dumb? Clueless? Blind? No. He was just a man, you thought. 

"I know," you cut him off gently, trying to act as if he had not consumed 99% of your brain capacity for the last 20 years. "I do know, Remus." 

The air lightened a little at your words, as if acknowledging your shared history made it easier to breathe. Almost easier. 

"I was just about to make myself a cup of tea. Would you like one?" he offered, trying to navigate the awkwardness that hung in the room. 

"Yes, thank you", you agreed, grateful for a way to break the emotional deadlock. 

As Remus moved to pour the boiling water into the cups, his hands were less steady than he'd have liked. You watched him, your heart pounding in your chest as if it wanted to leap out and bridge the gap that had opened up between you over the years. He handed you the cup, your fingers brushed ever so slightly. The contact, though fleeting, sent a rush of warmth surging through you both. 

From that day on, you became inseparable- or as inseparable as two Hogwarts professors could be. You found excuses to bump into each other in the hallways, 'accidentally' coinciding your evening strolls by the lake or the Forbidden Forest's edge. You began to steal moments wherever you could- sitting together at meals when you could manage it, pausing in empty classrooms for brief, whispered conversations. 

Yet, for all your newfound closeness, you both tiptoed around the deeper emotions and unspoken confessions that hovered in the background. You would catch yourself about to say something too revealing and would quickly pivot the conversation to safer topics. Remus, too, would often find himself on the verge of saying something he feared could ruin everything but would pull back at the last moment, as though treading on dangerous ground. 

The late-night strolls became your sanctuary, where the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and your carefully guarded feelings. 

"You've changed the curriculum quite a bit," you would say, your eyes sparkling as you discussed his innovative teaching methods. 

"And you've managed to make Arithmancy popular. I've never seen so many students signing up for it," he would reply, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to decipher the mysteries hidden behind your eyes. 

You would both laugh, the tension easing for a moment, yet neither of you would take that final, daunting step to acknowledge the flame that had been rekindled and now burned almost painfully. 

It was a dance you both had perfected, a dangerous game you played. And though you circled around your feelings, it was clear to you both that this delicate balance couldn't last forever. It was as if you were students again. Desperate, lovesick, terrified teenagers. 

And you couldn't take it anymore. You wouldn't. That night, the air was particularly cold, the air crisp, and the half-moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the grounds. 

"It's been weeks, Remus. Weeks since you came back into my life," you began, your voice shaky. "We keep circling around each other like we're afraid of something." 

"Afraid?" Remus responded, trying to maintain his composure. "There's nothing to be afraid of." 

"Isn't there?" You looked up, your eyes meeting his. "Then why haven't you touched me? Why haven't we talked about what's really going on between us? Why haven't you invited me out for a coffee?" 

Remus looked away, visibly wrestling with himself. "I can't. I can't give you what you want." 

The raw pain in his voice struck you, and you felt your own eyes brimming with tears. "And what do you think I want, Remus? Is it so wrong to want to be with you? Or am I not good enough for you?" 

He took a deep breath, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You deserve someone better, someone who can be there for you in all the ways I can't."

That was it. The dam of emotions you'd been holding back for years finally burst. "Better? Do you have any idea how many nights I've lain awake wondering if you were even alive? Do you know how terrifying it is to love someone and not know if they're dead or alive, Remus?" 

Your words struck him to his core. Of course, he knew what it felt like. He had lived it for 20 years. 

Your voice had risen to almost a scream, your body shaking as you confronted him, assaulted him with your words. "All those years, I never had the courage to approach you, to tell you how I felt. We lost all that time, and now here you are, yet you've never felt so out of reach." 

Remus couldn't look at you. His gaze was fixed on the ground, and he seemed to be shrinking into himself. "You don't understand. I'm not good for you." 

"Why? Because you're a werewolf?" you snapped, the words tumbling out of you before you could stop them. 

Remus's head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock. 

"I've known since Hogwarts, Remus. And I never cared. Are you blind? All I've wanted for the past 20 years was to be with you, to even just see you, to-" 

Before you could say another word, Remus closed the distance between you in two quick strides, his hands gripping your waist as he pushed you against a tree. Your eyes met for a split second- a second filled with anger, surprise, confusion, but above all, an overwhelming love- and his lips crashed into yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. His hand snaked up to your neck, feeling your pulse, as if he was trying to convince himself that this was real. You pressed your body against him, the heat radiating from him was intoxicating, dizzying. 

But then the kiss slowed, its intensity giving way to a slow, loving gentleness, one that you associated with him so much. Remus's hands moved from your neck to cup your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that had spilled onto your cheeks. Your hands found their way to his chest, gripping his robes like they were a lifeline, like he would vanish any second. 

Finally, you broke the kiss, a little out of breath, but remained close, your foreheads touching. "I'm sorry," Remus whispered, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry for all the years we lost, for all the pain I've caused you." 

You shook your head, your eyes searching his. "We can't get back the years we've lost, but we have now, Remus. That has to count for something." 

He looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time since the war, he allowed himself to believe in the possibility for a future- a future filled with love, warmth, and a happiness he had never thought he'd deserve. 

"Okay," he said softly, the word heavy with the weight of the promise it carried. 

"Okay," you repeated. 

[jisforjudi2]

THE FAITHFUL SECRETARY

Chicago Tribune

UPDATED: August 10, 2021 at 12:23 a.m.

Before the women’s movement, back when Father knew best and network TV made room for Daddy, when Mary Tyler Moore was Laura Petrie, not Mary Richards, actress Barbara Hale was playing a single working woman on TV.

Hale, now 71, remembers what appealed to her about the role of Della Street, secretary to lawyer Perry Mason on the series that was based on the mysteries by Erle Stanley Gardner.

“When we started (in 1956), it was the beginning of women not working at home. I liked that she was not married. My husband didn’t have to see me every week married to another man, and our children didn’t have to see me mothering other children.

“When (my son) Billy was in the 1st grade, we went to school for the first parent meeting, and on his desk were little projects he’d made-pictures of Daddy and Mommy and his sister and his animals. And underneath my picture-I wish I had it now, but the teacher kept it-he’d written in inch-high block letters, `This is my mom. I love her. She is a secretary.”‘

On Friday, the latest Perry Mason two-hour movie, “The Case of the Telltale Talk Show Host,” will air on NBC, one of seven productions that will carry the courtroom stalwart and his unflappable Girl Friday into 1994.

“I guess I was just meant to be a secretary who doesn’t take shorthand,” she quips. “My assistant wants you to know I’m a lousy typist too-33 words a minute!”

The Emmy award-winning actress is a Hollywood survivor-going into her second half-century in a profession she never dreamed of pursuing. A veteran of the old studio system and of television’s infancy, her co-stars in those early years were household names-Sinatra and Cagney and Stewart and Mitchum-when she was the ingenue.

RKO Studios was her “paid education,” as she puts it, her training ground. She met her husband, actor Bill Williams (who died several months ago), over coffee at the studio commissary.

Today, she still offers ample evidence of the effervescent beauty she was in the ’40s and ’50s-and even earlier, in Rockford High School, when her buddies entered her in a May Queen contest and she won. “I still know them, dear, and we 15 get together every three years. It takes three years to get over the three days we spend together!”

Her career seems to have evolved from being on the right Chicago street corner at the right time.

The daughter of a Rockford horticulturist and a homemaker, Hale (born in DeKalb) was studying at the Chicago Academy of Fine Arts, living at the Harriet M. McCormick branch of the YWCA and planning a career as a commercial illustrator and portraitist.

One day, as school let out for the summer, she was standing at the corner near the Drake Hotel with a girlfriend who’d come to town for a couple of weeks to look for modeling work. While they were waiting for the bus taking them to the North Side, a car drove up and someone tossed a card at them. It referred them to a modeling agency.

“A couple of weeks later, I went to see my buddies, and I told one of them the story about the card,” she recalls.

“She said, `Barb, you’re kidding! I was sitting in the little coffee shop at work this morning, and a lady came in and sat next to me, because it was the only seat left. She was pouting. I asked if she had a problem, and she said, “Yes, darn it. I have a model agency and I saw this kid on a corner, in a red coat, and can’t track her down. She’s exactly what one of our ad agencies is looking for.” Barb, what coat did you have on that day?

“I said, `My red coat-it’s the only coat I have.’ And she said, `Barb, I think that card was meant for you.”‘

It was. Hale went in to the Seaman Agency, and stopped Connie Seaman in her tracks. “She said, `Oh, my God-honey, don’t move! Al, get over here quick!’ Al came in and said, `It is her! Let’s see-we’ll shape her eyebrows, put on a little more lipstick, pull her hair back … ‘ and I said, `Just a minute, sir-what are we talking about?”‘

Hale was “a green 19” when she began fashion modeling, and after about a year and a half, RKO offered her a six-month tryout. The day after she arrived in Los Angeles, she visited the studio and its casting director, Dick Stockton.

“As I was shaking hands with him, the phone rang. He took the call, and as he listened, he started looking at me. `Yeah, yeah, yeah, just a minute.’ He turned to me and asked, `Honey, can you say a line?’ I said, `I don’t know.’ He said into the phone, `There’s a kid in the office right now. I think she’ll work. I’ll send her right over.’ He told his assistant, `Take her to wardrobe, take her to makeup, take her to Stage 6. One of the kids is sick. We’ve got to have a girl there immediately.’

“It hit every paper the next day. Cinderella story. First day on the lot, she gets-of course they said a starring part. I had one line, but you know about those things.”

Apart from that walk-on, in “Gildersleeve’s Bad Day,” she made her debut in 1944 in “Higher and Higher,” opposite Frank Sinatra.

Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, Ginger Rogers and Jane Russell were all at RKO then. So was Burr-who would be her TV series co-star about a dozen years later.

Hale studied dancing and singing at the studio. She began to appear on screen regularly-four movies in 1944, two in 1945-and eventually won leads in such movies as “The Boy With Green Hair,” “The Window,” “Jolson Sings Again” and “The Jackpot,” performing even while pregnant.

“I told Billy (her son, actor William Katt, who starred in the television series “The Greatest American Hero”) he should put on his resume that he was in `The Jackpot’ and `Lorna Doone,’ and he said, `Mother, I wasn’t,’ and I told him, `Oh, yes, you were!”‘

She continued her movie career and was a mainstay of television dramas until 1956, when a producer offered her the Della Street part in the pilot of what turned out to be a 9 1/2-year run. Hale went on to win an Emmy for best dramatic actress for the role in 1959.

“We did 36 shows that first year,” she says. “And we’re still doing it!”

She says that Della “was-and still is, to a great degree-a woman who knew what everybody was thinking. She was informed, and very observant of everything that went on. That was my challenge as an actress-to be a necessary part of the office without being too aggressive. Della was quietly overpowering: She knew when to speak and when to keep her mouth closed.”

Hale sees Della as having remained constant, to an extent. Her task is basically the same. But there have been some subtle emotional changes.

“I think she’s a little more at home, relaxed, showing her knowledge not only of the case, but also of her boss. In the early days, it was all business. Today there’s more of a camaraderie between them, a little more humor and more sensitivity to each other, which comes with years of being side by side.

“She’s trying to see that he stays healthy,” she says. “She’s taking him off coffee.

After nearly 300 episodes, “Perry Mason” folded in 1966.

In the mid-1970s, the show returned briefly with other actors and faded quickly. During the ’70s and early ’80s, Hale worked sporadically. She was in the original “Airport” in 1970, and appeared opposite her son in a 1978 surfing movie, “Big Wednesday.”

In 1985, producer Dean Hargrove asked her what she thought of the idea of a “Perry Mason” reunion show. She told him, “it would be divine, but we are 25 or 30 years older than we were then.” He said the intention was to use them as they were and to bring in a few new young actors to replace cast members William Talman, Ray Collins and William Hopper, who had died.

“Dean said, `There’s a young blond kid in town. I want to talk to him, not his agent. He’s done a series-“The Greatest American Hero.” But I can’t reach him.’

“I said, `Oh, well, that young man is in Kansas City doing “The Music Man” right now, and I can get you in touch with him if you want.’ And Dean asked, `You know him?’ I said, `Dean, I changed that boy’s diapers!’ Billy played in the first nine (Perry Mason) movies, then went on to another series of his own.”

“Perry Mason Returns” in 1985 was a Nielsen triumph, and with Perry stepping down from a judgeship to defend Della against murder charges in the first episode. From then on, the Mason bunch have visited America’s living rooms every few months.

After nearly four decades, Hale says the role of Della still offers unexpected moments.

“This week, at the end of the show, very quietly and very surprisingly, Perry plants one on Della,” Hale says. “It’s a first!”

Originally Published: May 16, 1993 at 1:00 a.m.

www.chicagotribune.com/1993/05/16/the-faithful-secretary/

[multifandomfanficss]

Home Is Wherever You Are P6

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

With a very heavy emphasis on platonic!Christopher Smith/Peacemaker

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Prompt: When the device fails, you and Adrian go to a friend for help.

Warnings: mentions of August Smith, cannon typical Peacemaker violence and language, homophobia

A/N: Sorry I skipped a week! It was a very intense and demanding week. I was actually getting lifeguard certified! Thank you guys for all of your support on this story. Enjoy!

“What the fuck do you mean he left?!” Harcourt yelled. She wanted you back just as badly as everyone else, but as the team leader she had to make the hard choices and she couldn’t afford to lose anyone else because of this mission.

“He’ll get there. He’ll find them and he’ll find a way back.” Economos sounds optimistic for once in his life.

“Since when have you become so optimistic?” She asks.

“I can be surprising!” John huffs.

September 13th, 1994

You wake up to an empty bed. It all must have been some fucked up dream. You had to get Gut and Chris out the door for school. Adrian should already be there. Diane would have driven him into his first day this morning. Your eyes blur with fresh tears about to drop as you rise from bed. Your vision clogged by tears, so you don’t see Adrian’s suit peaking out from under the bed. You trip over one oh his shin guards and hit the floor. You hear footsteps race up the stairs.

“Are you okay?” Adrian busts open the door.

“Yeah I’m fi- what are you wearing?” You look up to find your boyfriend in one of Diane’s old baking aprons.

“My mom’s apron.” He says as if that’s obvious.

“I mean why are you wearing it?” You question, as you start to stand up.

“Why? It’s because it’s floral and lacy and technically for a woman isn’t it? I didn’t think you’d been in the 90’s that long, but-“

“No, you can wear it, but like were you cooking…or…” You trail off.

“Sorry. I just spent too much time with teenage Chris.” He sighs

“He saw you?”

“Yeah and he kept calling me voice message guy. I don’t even know what that means.” He looks at you in confusion.

“Don’t worry about it! You know Chris! Always a dick!” You blush, trying to change the subject.

“He’s more of a dick than I remember. I made him breakfast and I didn’t even get a thank you! He just called me Nancy and left with Gut for school! That’s not even my name!” You pull him into your embrace.

“Baby, he’s calling you gay.”

“Okay? He’s not wrong. I am queer. I don’t just like girls. He’s queer too. What’s the point in bringing it up at breakfast?” Adrian questions.

“Well, I don’t think he’s fully come to terms with or maybe even realized that yet. He’s still technically living with his dad and it’s the 90’s. Everything is gay in a weird way. I know it sucks, but we have to allow time to breathe and change. We’re the ones out of our time here. We can go beat up homophobes and not mess up the timeline in our own time.” You kiss him. The 90’s are a shock to him since he doesn’t remember them very well. They were a shock to you too, but he’s just been thrown into it. You had over a week to adjust. It’s not pretty. Discrimination never is, but when you know better times are coming, you can’t do anything that could risk your better future. Home isn’t perfect, but it’s a little better than this. Fighting homophobia now would be like traveling back in time to fight segregation or women’s rights. It’s such a big fixed point in time that if you mess with it, you could change everything and you have no guarantee it would be for the better. People always talk about time travel like it’ll be wonderful. They never stop and think about all the awful responsibility that comes with it or how it affects your morality. “And before you get the idea no, you’re not killing his dad.”

“Why not?” Adrian asks.

“Because if you kill him that would affect history too much. We have no idea what that could do to Chris. We may never stop the butterflies or any other major threat in the future because maybe Chris didn’t become a hero or maybe he followed in his dad’s footsteps while mourning. Peacemaker as we know him would probably cease to exist. Do you know how many people he’s saved? They could all be dead. Emilia could be dead. That could start a whole different chain reaction. I wish we could kill Chris’ dad now, but who knows what kind of chaos that would cause to the timeline. We could completely break it.” You remind him.

“You’re right. Let’s just get out of here before we fuck anything else up.” He digs around in his pocket for the time travel grenades.

“Were those just in your pocket?” You ask.

“Yeah. I’m not an idiot (Y/N). I wasn’t gonna let them get lost or stolen.” He hands you one.

“Why does mine have a light on it?” You ask.

“It’s supposed to.” He informs you.

“Then why doesn’t yours have one?” You ask.

“Oh fuck! I thought I heard a crack when I sat on it earlier, but I was really hoping it was just the chair.” Your jaw drops to the floor as he gives you one of his famous Adrian Chase ‘I fucked up’ faces.

“Does that mean we’re stuck here?” You ask. He grabs his suit and starts going through all the pockets.

“It’s gonna be fine because Adebayo gave me a piece of paper with the address for the old ARGUS headquarters. They’re gonna help us which means under no circumstances do we need to freak out.” He reassures you.

“Oh shit! Adrian!”

“What?”

“No, not you. I’m sorry. Well, sort of you, but little you…I have to pick him up from preschool later. He has a half day today. I forgot. If I don’t do it nobody will.” You remind your boyfriend.

“What if we go, figure out a plan, pick up little me and go back later if need be. We need what? A battery? It can’t take that long.” Adrian suggests.

“Okay. You’re right we’ll probably be fine. You agree and head off to the address.

When you arrive there you find a little girl sitting on a bench doing homework. She’s all by herself outside of ARGUS headquarters.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” You ask her.

“I’m homeschooled. My mommy says traveling with her is a better education.” She smiles, kicking her feet, filling in the next math problem.

“So you travel a lot?” You ask her. She nods.

“Where have you been?” Adrian asks her.

“I’ve been all over North America, most of Europe, and a ton of places in South America, but my mommy goes all over the world for work.” She tells you. You get a better look at her homework to see she’s doing math at a level that you assumed she was years away from. She looked like she was doing basic middle school math, but couldn’t be more than 7 or 8.

“Is that math hard?” You asked.

“Not really. It’s kinda boring though.” She shrugs.

“Woah! Looks like we have a little artist in our presence!” Adrian points at a dog she’d drawn in the corner of the page.

“I love dogs and I’m really good at drawing them! One day I’m gonna have so many!” She beams.

“Leota!” You hear her name being called from the doorway of the old ARGUS headquarters.

“You guys seem really nice maybe we can go exploring sometime together!” She says before running off.

Suddenly everything makes sense. Both you and Adrian proceed to laugh.

“Everyday this feels more and more like a fever dream.” You say, walking inside.

As soon as you walk in you start looking for any excuse to be there. Looking at the front desk person only ten steps away you didn’t plan this very well.

“Why did we think coming in here with no plan was a good idea?” Adrian asks you.

“It was your idea!” You remind him.

“You followed it!” He argues.

“It’ll be fine just think think think think think…” Your eyes scan the mailboxes in the entry way until you see one you recognize. No fucking way.

You pull Adrian up to the front desk.

“Who are you here to see?” They ask.

“We’re here to see John Economos.” You smile.

“And who should I say is here?” They ask.

“Some old friends and colleagues.”

The front desk person gives you a key card which will only let you take the elevator to John’s floor and gives you instructions on how to get there. When you arrive he isn’t ecstatic to see you, but that’s fair. He doesn’t even know you yet.

“You’re not my mom bringing my lunch.” He groans. John may only be 27, but his attitude is still the same.

“No, we’re not, but we need your help.” You start.

“Why should I help you?” He asks.

“Why shouldn’t you help us?” Adrian retorts.

“There are literally so many reasons. I’m not losing my job over this.”

“Trust me. You won’t.” Adrian laughs loudly over a joke that would go over John’s head.

“We have to tell him the truth.” You tell Adrian.

“What truth? I don’t even know you people.” John says.

“I thought you said nobody can know…”

“Well we kinda have to tell him about the time travel device in order for him to be able to fix it.” You remind him.

“So let me get this straight. You two nutcases think you’re time travelers?” John laughs.

“I can prove it! We’re friends and you have to believe me because I know you have an 11th Street Kids tattoo on your arm that you got at a Hanoi Rocks concert in Finland when you were 14!” You tell him.

“That’s not the most difficult thing to find out about me. It’s literally written on my skin.” He rolls his eyes.

“Well here’s a picture of us in the van and here’s a picture of you feeding Eagly. I actually took that one while you weren’t looking because you get annoyed when I say you like him. Here’s a pic-“

“That’s enough, Adrian!” You push his hands down, hiding his phone from John’s view.

“You’re the one who said we could tell him!” Adrian says, getting frustrated.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just worried about him learning too much about the future.”

“So what? I’m supposed to believe you because you just because you taught yourself the new Adobe Photoshop 3.0 to get ahead on your job resume? And then stuck it on what?…a digital frame?” John is annoyingly skeltical, but it is still his first year at ARGUS. He hasn’t seen everything his older self has yet. You sigh.

“Catch.” You toss him the broken device. “If you can fix this and send us home I promise we’ll be out of your hair for the next 28 years.”

“So who’s the idiot who broke it” Economos asks, looking it over.

“It’s not broken broken though, right? Can’t you just like recharge it?” You ask.

“Dude the power source is crushed. What did you do; sit on it?” John questions.

“…No” Adrian lies, poorly concealed behind an exaggerated expression.

“Can you fix it?” You’re hopeful.

“No, I can’t fix it. What do I look like? George Jetson? This is some weird power source that I’m pretty sure doesn’t even exist yet.” John says in his classic pessimistic tone. Good to think some things never change.

“Well then how do you know it’s the power source?” Adrian challenges him.

“There’s an on/off button” John says, bluntly.

“We’re never getting home…” You sigh. Adrian picks up your hand as a gentle reminder everything would be okay. It was something you two often did when he saw you becoming a bit anxious and you needed something to anchor yourself. At least you had him back.

“Well I might not be able to fix it, but I could probably amplify the field of one device to be able to take two people, but it would take a little bit of time.”

“How long is a little bit? I have to pick up the kid I nanny from preschool.” You ask Economos, concerned about Adrian’s younger self.

“Oh no! You can’t just dip on me. I’m not putting my job at any further risk for a 3 year old.”

“Well that 3 year old grows up to be 30 and meets you and then proceeds saves your life more than once, so I’d rethink that. Without that 3 year old most of us would probably be dead.” You defend Adrian.

Your adult boyfriend proudly smiles and waves at your younger friend.

“Gross! You’re nannying your fucking boyfriend?!” Economos is appalled.

“I didn’t have a lot of choices, okay!” You defend yourself.

“Yeah, tell that to Freud!” Economos laughs at his own joke.

“We’re not going back in time again. We’re trying to go forward in time.” Adrian missed John’s joke, but to be fair his tone has apparently never in his life been easy to read.

“He’s using a figure of speech, babe.” You smile, squeezing his hand. “I have to go pick up his younger self at preschool. Are you gonna help us or not?” You ask.

“Come back by tonight and I should have this all figured out. Let’s just hope for everyone’s sake, my theory works.”

[kirarisoul]

predictions — quackity

first fic kinda scared 🤪

cw: angst, family problems, sad 😔

not proofread

skater!quackity x fem!reader

summary: after moving cities, you meet a very awkward, closed off guy. you eventually break through his walls, however, it seems to be written in your fate that you two could never be.

Spades represent challenging tasks or events coming in the future.

Hearts represent feelings, family, home, love, and relationships.

august 17th

moving somewhere new is always scary. leaving all you friends and family and home behind for a new place, a decision you didn’t have any say in. your parents said it was best to move here, but there wasn’t even any reason to move. you were doing fine in school, had a few good, loyal friends, and you were happy. however, being a child means nobody listens to what you have to say and you must adapt very quickly. good thing you were 17 and could do what you wanted after your 18th birthday, move back home and go to college.

but, for now, you were here. in your dads car, finally getting closer to your new house after hours in the car. you wondered what your room would be like, what your new school would be like, if you would make any friends. you definitely don’t have the same confidence you did when you were six, talking to everyone in your class and making friends. i guess you somehow knew you would be making lifelong friends, ones that you would grow old with and live on the same street as forever. you started to sketch what you think the house looks like in your sketchbook, and what you hope your room would look like.

“look, [name]. we’re gonna get there soon. why don’t you take those headphones out and look around.” your dad looks through the rearview mirror to look at you.

you yank your headphones out. he knows your mad but just won’t leave you alone. you tune out your dad talking to your mom and look out the window for the first time in three hours, the last thing you saw was a bunch of cows out on a field.

…

this place is a fucking dump. it sucks. everything sucks. now you really want to go home. your parents just had to pick the worst place for you to move. your neighbours front lawns were full of junk, like they were hoarders or something.

the car stops and you feel your dad get out and open the trunk. you open your door to greet your new home. you can work with this. it’s not the ugliest thing in the world. you walk inside and hear something about the moving van coming in a few hours. your room was alright, very empty but the window has a nice view of the sunset.

“[name], after dinner i want you going straight to bed. you start at your new school tomorrow.” your mom sternly said.

“alright” you say. “don’t know why i’m starting school on a thursday, but ok” you mumbled.

///

the floor in this house is oddly comfy, you think to yourself. but you can’t sleep, your heart is racing thinking about starting at a new school tomorrow. you’ve seen new kids at your old school be all alone and never understand how they can handle it, and now you’re the new kid. you can only pray it goes well.

you turn over to look at your phone.

[00:36]

you should really get to sleep.

///

you jog down the stairs to see furniture that wasn’t there yesterday, guess your parents were busy making it look nice last night.

“hey, eat up and get going. don’t wanna be late on your first day!”

“‘kay.”

still mad.

///

you walk out and breathe in the air. it’s warm and humid. you pull out your phone so you can open your google maps to get you to school.

dead.

clearly you didn’t remember that the electricity on the second floor just didn’t work and your phone didn’t charge. great. how the hell were you going to get to school now.

you then had the great idea of looking for someone who looks like a student and asking them if they go to your school. maybe make a friend aswell.

you see a boy leave the house opposite yours and turn left down the street. he had a hat and a hoodie on, with the hood up. in this heat? what a weirdo. but it looks like your family is just surrounded by elderly people living out their retirement on this street, so you doubt you would be seeing another teenager apart from him. and you were getting late.

so you crossed the street to catch up with him.

“hey! excuse me!” you yelled after him.

the boy turned around with a confused look on his face and looked around as if there was anyone else you could be taking to.

“uhh… hi?” he said quietly, with the same look on his face.

“yeah, hi, uh, do you go to [school]?”

“uh, yeah, why?”

“me too! well it’s my first day, and my phone is dead so i don’t know how to get there and i was wondering if you cou-“

“you’re new?” he cut you off.

“…yeah. anyways, can i walk with you?”

“why are you starting school on a thursday?”

why does he care? can you walk with him or not??

“i dunno, but it’s getting late so can i walk with you or..?”

“i mean if you want.”

“ok, thank you.”

and so you started walking. the silence between the two of you was so awkward you wanted to die.

“so, uh, what’s your name?”

“alex.”

“nice..”

…

was he gonna ask your name? has he ever talked with another human before?

“my name is [name].”

“ok.”

ok? OK?

“is that the school there?” you point to a building that’s about 4 stories coming up ahead of you two.

“no, it’s just got a bunch of kids outside it for no reason.”

what the fuck is this guys problem. you’ve just met him and he’s acting like this. no wonder he’s walking all alone.

///

after getting your schedule from the front desk, you make your way to your first class. you sit down in a chair near the front and set down your bag. you really, really, hope that the teacher doesn’t make a whole speech about the new kid in class.

“so, as you guys might’ve noticed,” the teacher starts. “there’s a new face here!”

of course he did.

he comes over to your desk and gestures for you to stand up. “wanna introduce yourself, [name]?”

“uh, sure.” you stand.

“uhm, my name is [name] and i moved here yesterday from-“

“you’re starting school on a thursday?” some kid says from the corner of the class.

“….yes.”

///

finally, the first day was over. apart from the fact that you sat alone at lunch and had to make an introduction in every single class, it wasn’t horrible.

now to get home….

which way was it again?

have you seriously forgotten? it was only like 6 hours ago.

suddenly, you see a familiar hoodie in the distance, walking.

it’s alex. i’ll just go walk with him again.

you jog up beside him.

“hi, alex.”

he turns his head and looks at you while he keeps walking.

“hello?”

“uh, this is kinda embarrassing but i don’t know how to get home either, can i walk with you again?”

he sighs. “sure, i guess.”

“cool.”

you weren’t gonna talk this time, since clearly he doesn’t want to.

…

this is even more awkward than the walk to school.

“so,” you start. “how was your day?”

he turns again and looks at you weirdly. “uh, fine?”

“good…”

you won’t tell him about your day, he doesn’t seem to care very much anyways.

///

you figured out how to get to school in your own for friday, so you didn’t have to go through that whole thing with alex again. it’s the weekend now and while you scroll through your friends stories, seeing them all having fun hanging out, you’re alone in your room, lying on your bed, doing absolutely nothing. you know, cause you’ve got no friends.

you get up to go get another popsicle from downstairs, i think everyone eats a lot when they’re bored out of their mind. you pass by the window in your room and see alex outside of his home across the street. you stop and look, for some reason he’s just so intriguing to you. and kinda cute.

wait a minute.

am i really thinking this about that weirdo who doesn’t talk, wears hoodies in the summer, and walks all alone? i must be really bored.

he’s out there with a skateboard in his hand, and he looks like he’s waiting for someone. his hair isn’t hidden behind a beanie like usual, it’s under a baseball cap. he’s still wearing a hoodie, but with shorts instead of longer pants this time. wow, his legs are nice too. and his eyes. and face.

suddenly, he looks up at your window and locks eyes with you. you immediately drop down to the floor and crawl the rest of the way to the kitchen. could you have handled that any weirder?

///

monday came fast, and once again you were leaving the house for school. you didn’t see alex again during the weekend, and probably for a good reason, cause if he remembers that window situation, it’s over for you. God, why did you do that?

you hear a door shutting from across the street, and you can feel a pair of eyes on you. you turn slightly to see and there alex is, looking right at you, again. you whip your head back around and start walking faster.

///

you get home fast enough to avoid seeing alex again and reach for the door handle. it doesn’t work. you try it again. and again. and again. then you remember, your mom went back to work today, and didn’t leave the door unlocked like usual. you didn’t have a key either. now you’re stranded outside your house, for about another three hours until your mom gets home. you sit on your porch steps and start the waiting.

until, you see a shadow above you and you look up. it’s… alex? wow, the last person you wanted to see right now.

“hey.” he says.

“hi…”

he looks around then shoves his hands in his pockets and sighs.

“my mom said i should ask you if you wanna come in, so you’re not waiting out here.”

you look past him and see a woman in the doorway of his house, smiling at you and waving.

“uh, i’m alright.”

“just come, she’s not gonna give up, she’s been wanting to meet you guys since you moved in. also, you shouldn’t wait outside in the sun.”

“ok, i guess.”

you follow him to his house and walk in after greeting his mom. it’s a nice place, better looking on the inside than the outside. his lawn is probably the nicest on the street. after all, you see his mother outside gardening all the time.

“hi, honey, you’re [name] right?, i talked to your mom today, and she told me to make sure you’re not waiting outside until she comes home.”

“oh, thank you.”

“it’s no problem! you can sit in the living room while your waiting and i’ll get you something to eat oh- actually, alex, take her up to your room.

“mom i-“ he says frustrated and then stops himself. “fine. follow me”

you go up to his room and look around. it’s small, the same size as your room, but it’s nice. it’s very…. alex. the walls are blue, there are posters up on the wall of tyler, the creator and kanye west. there are a couple skateboards around, each with a different colour and size and shape.

“just sit wherever, im gonna play.” he points to his console and sits on the floor after turning it on. you sit next to him cause sitting on some strangers bed is weird. as he scrolls through the games, one catches your attention, mario kart.

“oh, you have mario kart?”

“yeah.” he scrolls right past it and clicks on something then gta’s loading screen pops up on the tv. you guess you were too subtle with telling him you like mario kart. you nod and turn away, pulling out your phone and mindlessly scrolling.

you hear him sigh and close down gta. “do you wanna play mario kart?” he asks.

“oh, uh, sure.”

he hands you a controller and you two pick out your characters, shy guy and princess peach.

“princess peach? really?” he questions you.

“she’s the best. i always win with her.”

“it’s very basic.”

“watch me win, then start talking.”

he laughs. “alright, but just so you know, i’ve never been beat in mario kart.”

“me neither.” you’re getting pretty competitive with him.

you both play for the three hours and get more and more comfortable with each other. you think you could even be friends with him. his mom opens the door and calls your name.

“your moms home, honey.”

“oh,” you start getting up and grabbing your school bag. “ thanks for having me, ma’am. and thanks, alex.”

“it’s no problem” he says, looking away.

///

walking home from school is probably the best part of your day. your headphones are in, your alone, looking at the scenery. it’s fun. you even close your eyes and take in the air as you walk. it’s so peaceful. until you feel someone walking next to you. you open your eyes and see alex, walking with you.

“hi.” he says, looking forward.

“hey.” you say, a little confused.

you two continue walking in silence, but it doesn’t feel as awkward anymore.

“hey, you have a few hours til your mom gets home, right?”

“yeah, why?”

“well, if you were just gonna come over again, i was gonna go to the skatepark today.”

“oh, it’s fine, i’ll just walk around the block or something.”

“no, like, i was wondering if you wanna go with me?”

was he asking you out?

“just, to kill time, y’know?”

“uh, sure, that’ll be fun i think.” you smile at him.

at the skatepark, you sit at the edge of the bowl, watching him skate.

“you’re really good!” you say.

“huh? nah, i’m not really.” he laughs.

“no, you are! well, to me atleast.”

he smiles and turns away to keep skating and doing tricks.

after about an hour of just watching him and talking, he asks you something.

“d’you wanna try?”

“what- skating?”

“yeah, i can teach you.”

“i dunno..”

“it’ll be fun! and safe, i promise.”

“fine, i guess.”

he holds out his hand to help you get into the bowl, and you grab it.

“so basically, what you do is you stand on it with two feet, then push off.”

“ok…” you try and you move, but don’t get far.

“that was great!” he says, encouraging you.

“it really wasn’t.”

“for a total beginner it’s great.”

he helped you learn how to turn and do some simple tricks.

“this one is kinda hard for a beginner, but i think you’ve got it.”

you watch him demonstrate it then you try. you push off with one foot and bend your knees, just like he did, to do the trick. he’s jogging along with you on the skateboard, making sure you don’t fall. you jump up slightly to do the trick but it doesn’t work, and you stumble when you land back on the skateboard. you feel yourself tripping, and prepare for the impact by closing your eyes, but it never comes.

instead you feel hands on your waist, pulling you up, helping you stand. you open your eyes and alex is looking at you, and asking “you okay?” with a worried expression. but all you can think about are his hands. their placement, how they felt on your body.

you snap back into reality. “i’m fine.”

“maybe we should stop now..”

“good idea.”

you two lay on the grass near the skatepark, talking.

“i’m just mad at my dad really,” you say. “he made us move here, and he’s always on me about my grades. it’s like he’s always mad. he’s always yelling and stuff. my mom says he’s just stressed about work but that’s not my fault.”

“i get it. my dad isn’t the best either. he’s not mean but he’s very strict. we’re not like father and son, he’s more like my boss. he’s always talking about how i’ll follow in his footsteps and own his business, but i don’t wanna.” alex says.

“what do you wanna do?”

“ok, promise you won’t laugh.”

“i won’t.”

“a streamer.”

“like a twitch streamer?”

“yeah, i already have a youtube channel that’s doing pretty well, and i want to do streaming too. i wanna make people happy with my content. i also wanna move to LA. that’s where all the streamers live.”

“woah. you really planned it all out. i wanna go to art school, i love drawing.”

“really? can i see some?

“yeah sure!” you pull out your sketchbook from your bag

///

december 28th

as your friendship developed, and you crush on alex developed, you became happier and more content with your move. you found other friends but you always walk home with alex. and you go to the skatepark all the time. you’re pretty good at skating now.

for his birthday, you decided to go to a carnival. you went on rides together and ate food, the night was coming to an end when you saw something near the back of the carnival.

“look, fortune telling! let’s go!”

“you know it’s all fake right, it’s a scam.”

“just come.” you drag him to the tent and walk in.

it’s just a spinning wheel with four symbols on it.

spade.

heart.

club.

diamond.

whatever, it’s only a dollar. you give the tired teenager working the tent two dollars for yourself and spin the wheel twice.

your first spin was the heart.

your second spin was the spade.

“huh, i wonder what they mean.”

“look it up online, it’s like 11, we should get home.” alex says, while urging you out the tent.

///

august 17th

it’s officially been a year since you moved here, and you are completely at peace with the situation now. you made new friends, and you always had alex there with you, especially during hard times with your family and home.

you’re sitting at the desk in your room, studying, when you suddenly get a notification on your phone. it’s alex.

alex

hey can u come outside for a sec

you

why lol

alex

just come pls

you grab your jacket and slip your shoes on. you walk outside and breathe in the cool, summer, night air. you see alex a little bit down the street from your house. you speed up to reach him faster.

“hey,” you smile at him, with rosy cheeks due to the nippy air. he doesn’t think you could ever look better. “what’s up?”

“i have to tell you something.”

your smile falters. “what is it, alex?”

“i’m leaving..” he paused.

“what, sorry, where? when? what are you talking about? why?” you bombard him with questions, he can’t just drop this bomb on you with no explanation.

“LA.”

“oh” you’ve known it was his dream for a while now. “that’s great, alex! i’m so happy for you! when are you going?”

“tomorrow.”

“oh.. so soon? why didn’t you tell me before?”

“it was last minute, one of my friends over there found an apartment for me, and i was gonna go to college soon anyways, so i applied for one in LA. sorry i didn’t tell you but it would’ve upset you and i-“

“alex, it’s fine. it’s what you’ve always wanted. i’m glad you’re getting to do this finally.” you smile at him reassuringly.

“thanks.” he smiles back. “i wanted to ask you though.”

“what?”

“come with me.”

“what?!”

“come to LA with me. i’ve been putting off telling you and i wasn’t going to but i can’t go without saying this. [name], i have liked you since that day you asked to walk to school with me. i’ve loved you since you let me teach you to skate. i can’t go without you.”

“alex..”

“we can get away from your dad and my dad and this whole city together. i have everything ready-“

“alex.”

“i’ve got an apartment, and there’s an art school nearby that you can go to. we can live together and you can go to school and i’ll stream an-“

“alex!” you say sternly this time. he looks at you for the first time since he started his ramble. you’re crying, why are you crying? he thinks.

“i-i can’t.”

“what..?”

“i can’t go with you alex.” you look at him with wide eyes like you’re also surprised at what you’re saying.

“what do you mean? we can get away from all of this! from our parents, from this town, from this street!”

“i can’t leave my family, alex.”

“[name], what? i thought you would’ve wanted thi-“

“why would i want this alex?! why are you doing this?! you cant make me choose between my life here and with you! it’s not fair!”

“i-i don’t-“

“just go alex.”

“what?”

“just go. i don’t think we can do this.”

“but-“

“go.” your voice breaks.

he whimpers and takes a few steps back.

“i’m sorry [name]…” his eyes are wide with shock. this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. you’re supposed to be going to LA with him. you two were supposed to be together.

“i love you, [name]” alex starts walking.

“i love you too.” you whisper, hoping he heard.

you turn on you heel and walk into the distance.

you make it to the skatepark where you have millions of memories with alex. you sit there a couple hours. just thinking.

when you get home your parents are there, waiting.

“[name], where were you? i told you to study, where did you go?”

you’re too exhausted to talk. you walk past them and go to your room. you couldn’t even cry anymore.

and so, the heart and the spade came at you together.

august 17th has been the worst day of your life two years in a row.

end.

////

ommgggg how was it, i hope it wasn’t too long or boring. this is my first fic on this account hope you guys like it 😛 sorry if q was a little ooc

[saleintothe90s]

Daily press, September 28, 1989

The more things change, the more they stay the same. 35 years ago people in South Carolina were still reeling from Hurricane Hugo. Very strange how people could just go to someone's house to donate (see left column) back then.

Imagine getting ready to get on a plane to London when you collapse at the airport.

I'd never heard of the comic Outland, it was a spinoff of Bloom County that ran only on Sundays. Here is Mortimer Mouse:

(eBay seller Erickson Comics and Paper)

I found this Sunday night, and then Monday night, I find out that Pete Rose died! VHS Tapes Old newspapers are magic.

Even in 1989, the clothes in these A&N ads already looked outdated. It was always like this with them. I could pull up a newspaper from 1994, and the clothes would look like the clothes people wore in ... 1989.

ooh, we have a Phar-Mor alert. We were not a Phar-Mor family, we did not visit the mythical store known as Phar-Mor. My mom said that area was too crowded. It was like a giant variety store with a pharmacy, right?

I was nosy, and looks like they broke up in 2001. So the Yorks were trying to gain "custody" of their embryo from a lab in Norfolk (they lived in California). I'm not sure if the couple were successful at having children though.

Oh no! It's our boy David Merritt! We remember him from the August 1, 1993 newspaper entry. Remember, his restaurant didn't open until 1992, and was hyping that it was going to open on April 7, 1990.

These ads are magnificent.

Old Mill? I gotta say it:

For you dead mall fans out there, both Outlets Ltd and Great American Outlet Mall are long gone.

I never thought that My Two Dads needed one censor, let alone two. I gotta watch My Two Dads, it has Paul Reiser and Dana from Step by Step! I love that podcast she has with Christine Lakin about Step by Step.

Speaking of censorship, STOPLESS GIRLS. I looked up the address, and looks like it was torn down.

No Cathy in this strip, but there are Fax jokes. Remember faxing in your lunch order? Onion rolls seem so old skool, I feel like I remember seeing them at the bakery at the grocery store when I was a real little kid, and then never again. Is it a regional thing? Do people not eat onion rolls in Hampton Roads anymore?

Garfield was upsetting that day.

OH I almost forgot. Speaking of upsetting:

A man on his bike was hit by a car down the street from the newspaper offices. So just you know, walk down the street and take a photo of it and put it on the front page of the local section. I hope Allen was ok. The McDonalds where it happened is long gone, but the building remains.

/edit/

So the day I went to publish this, I had to take the long way home from Suffolk, and I drove by this intersection on my way to the James River Bridge. Old newspapers ARE magic.

I know we make jokes about certain people putting raisins in potato salad, but what about raisins in your chicken.

I love the names of these raisin recipes! Silk Stockings?! Model T?! I would try a lil bite of each of these.

I can't remember where I mentioned this place, but it amuses me SO MUCH that back in the day you could go to Coliseum Mall and buy steaks.

wait. Bryers made jelly? I wonder if that's the same fruit that was in that yogurt they used to make that was so good. Breyers ice cream is soo bad now.

!! This was my friend Paul's mom! I about flipped when I saw this. This is exactly how five year old me remembers her. She would give me rides to school sometimes in her old jeep and would pick my mom up for room mothers.

Finally, this Eastern Airlines ad is beautiful. They had about a year and a half left, closed in 1991.

I completely forgot to post for September, I got 🦠 at the end of August that went into the first week of September, then I had to get ready for the Norfolk Zine fest, then then this weekend? Is Richmond Zine fest. Don't forget, my zines are available on my Etsy shop.

And there's a new design over at my TeePublic.

Facebook | Etsy | Retail History Blog | Twitter | YouTube Playlist | Random Post | Ko-fi donation | instagram / threads @thelastvcr​ | tik tok @ saleintothe90s | TeePublic Store

[stitched-mouth]

I doubt anyone care about where I was when I started and finished The Umbrella Academy but it matters to me which is why I’m posting this.

My Love Letter To TUA & 14 Year Old Me

On 30th July 2020, I watched the first season of TUA. I saw promotions for the second season and was bored so started it. I was 14 years old and it was the summer holidays so I was out of school, sitting with my Mum trying to find something to watch. We were both immediately hooked. Like, hooked hooked. We finished the whole season in a day and the second season the following day. We watched in the living room which was rubbed down and full of my Mum’s belongings after some hard to explain family issues. But we wasn’t living comfortably and I had just started having suicidal thought.

Umbrella Academy became one of the few things at the time to shake me out of a suicidal meltdown I’d have in my bedroom alone. It had immediately became my favourite series and Right Back Where We Started From become by far my second favourite song. They were powerful things that frequently saved me mentally. I had never felt as close to anything else before.

I also got to meet Robert Sheenan in May 2022 at MCM, our conversation was extremely brief but I think he understood how much the show meant to me and a lot of the other people there. And guess what? My soulmate was in line behind me, we didn’t notice each other and properly meet until nearly 2 years later in the same place.

On 22nd June 2022, I started the 3rd season. I was 16 years old, it was once again the summer holidays but I had work. I was 4 hours late to work that day because I decided to start the new season. I watched 2 and half episodes and finished it while on holiday at Centre Parcs with my Dad (last time I saw him) that following weekend.

I had just gotten out of hospital a week before it came out after trying to end my life. Even though I was immediately back to work, I was heavily supervised to prevent me trying to end my life again.

On 9th August 2024, I started the 4th season. I was late to it because I was out the day before with my two partners. I’m 18 years old now and have left home, don’t see much of my parents or sister, live with my two partners and am in my first throuple. I’m also happy for the first time in years. I have my own space to myself now, have grown and mature a lot since 2022. I’ve been homeless, job less and heartbroken since then. In the last few months, it all changed for me. I found people who actually love me and I haven’t had a suicidal thought in almost 1 year now. I finished the final season with my two lovers who also love TUA.

Even if I didn’t love this season as much as the first, it will always remain deep in my heart. I still feel so close to this show, like it’s a friend or something or even a love. I didn’t have anyone else back in 2020 so the feeling was foreign and exciting, fortunately I feel that for real people also now.

I have finally found myself and become happy. It makes me look at 14 year old me, the one who was miserable and constantly made mistakes, and I love her. And I sympathise with her. I think about how lonely she must of been, to rely so much on a TV show to make her not want to kill herself. I wish she had my friends and family but at least she had TUA. Possibly my broken timeline was how much I used to to feel like I needed to be someone smarter, like Five.

Right after my 18th birthday, I got a tattoo to represent my love and gratitude for the show.

I love you TUA, thanks for everything

[omegaremix]

The Cool & SRS Music Sharing Collective.

WUSB always had a history of dee-jays finding new music off each other. This was and always will be no issue. Thanks to Alice of Nightmare Aquarium, I’d never know who Ariel Pink or William Onyeabor were, and quadruple that for Black Marble, an act that’s become one of my best discoveries of the decade. Others had always asked me for playlists and “that one song I played fifteen minutes before the end of my show”. Our lives are a little more tolerable thanks to our station.

Shaerie, our dee-jay and resident astrologist, decided to create a secret group to post finds for only us to listen to. The Cool & SRS Music Sharing Collective was established in August 2016. She bestowed our dee-jay Conor (Headless Elvis) the title of admin- and the two started letting their closest friends and station volunteers in. “If there’s shitty music in this group, I will delete the fuck out of it”, she declared. Their first order of business? PWR BTTM’s “New Hampshire”. That was back when everyone and their cat loved them, until they were outed as sexual predators and then became shitty. We’ve yet to delete the fuck out of them, hmmm?

A month later, I was in. The SRS (“serious”) collective took off and we posted on a near-endless basis that almost everyone at one point had some catching up to do. Shaerie and Conor shared many a Bandcamp and d.i.y. find. They provided our daily allowance of acts in Downtown Boys, Ty Segall, Slowthai, Slothrust, Kal Marks, wosX, Car Seat Headrest, Saint Pepsi, Really Big Pinecone, and more. Cornflower posted some Argentinian musicks; and many others pitched the obvious, the classics, and some obscure finds in Brian Eno, Neu, Velvet Underground, The Fall, Richard Hell, Bush Tetras, Suicide, old-school hip-hop, alternative, shoegaze, and other nutritious pieces of good music. Other posts of theirs in Future Islands, Rolling Blackouts C.F., Speedy Ortiz, Idles, Snail Mail, Algiers, and Fidlar were ones my show Omega WUSB already played beforehand. They had our phases of Mac DeMarco and Frankie Cosmos worship. Did you know she was Phoebe Cates’ daughter? Shocked the shit out of me.

Some things dropped off on SRS became essential not only for Omega WUSB but for me personally. Conor’s why I’ve played Cende, Marijuana Deathsquads, Machine Girl, and Ghost Spell, and why I’m now a huge fan of Water From Your Eyes / Rachel Brown. He’s also the one responsible for me discovering Post Trash which helped influenced my show’s format and made me find the beauty of d.i.y. music. You can thank our friend Toasty for Palm’s “Dog Milk” that became part of a personal soundtrack to a wildly surreal summer.

Sharing is caring collecting, so I spread the wealth, too. I posted anything you could think of in hopes of resonating with our own. Most of the time it hit. Other times I struck out. Who was the only one who came though if others didn’t half the time? Spooky Christmas, the other (female) dee-jay who cares about sample culture as much as I do. Hooded Fang and Javelin were two which people jumped on board. Conor saw my post for Unstoppable Death Machines and he was floored: the billboard shown on Know Tomorrow was a real one very familiar for those driving west on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, and he was a fan of theirs.

We didn’t just post music, we posted current events, too. Our staff were (and still are) very into the meat of the city scene. They were sad to see Shea Stadium close down for good. That’s the venue, not the former home of the New York Mets but that’s been gone. Citi Field should also close down, too. (Go Yankees!) As Shaerie left, Conor took over and gave SRS an important edge. Leave it up to him to post pieces from the Washington City Paper, where Priest’s Katie Alice Grier questioned how safe safe-spaces really were; or from the Creative Independent about Lightning Bolt’s Brian Chippendale living in, owning, and being evicted from d.i.y. venues. See where our mindset is?

Even there were a few moments that I found my fellow staffers’ actions (besides posting PWR BTTM) questionable and grounds for expulsion from the SRS and the station. Toto’s “Africa” but with vocals one step out of key and off-beat. Marcus Mixx’ “My Oui Oui (New York)” for fuck’s sake. Smashmouth’s “Allstar” but every word is “somebody”. Yeah, somebody should’ve deserved a caning for that one. Mac Sabbath? Really? Thank Based God we didn’t post Okilly Dokilly, either.

But, they redeemed themselves when they really hit a few out of the park. Conor’s bandmate Jasko found Black Merda’s self-titled album. I thought I was the only one who knew of them. Cornflower found The Avalanches’ “Since I Met You”, which solved a mystery of what that song was I recorded on cassette 15 years ago. Conor once again wowed me when he posted Pigs’ You Ruin Everything (Unsane-related), because again, I had that all to myself. Kleenex’ “Nice”, Elite Gymnastics, Thee Oh Sees, and Death’s “Politicians In My Eyes” were other finds from our staffers which Omega WUSB played beforehand.

If not for Shaerie and Conor, I wouldn’t have a read on where some of the best dee-jays and selectors stood and what we’re all about. Some of what they posted for all to see was what I essentially wanted. What I wanted, like everyone else, was a connection with ourselves and the music. And I got it all in spades and diamonds. Thanks to everyone involved, I wouldn’t have summer memories, a newfound appreciation for the local / city scene, or the feelings I get for hearing specific sounds, vibes, ideas, and projections from certain artists. These are feelings I want and what they come with is a vision that makes me see and imagine things others don’t. As an aside, it was great to see what we’d come up with and how excited we were when we got it. It was a joker’s-wild goin’ on and we didn’t know what the fuck would happen.

For anyone keeping score, here’s what we took with us and what we gave back. Now it’s yours. It’s been a ride. SRS took off and ran well for a year-and-a-half. It slowed to a halt when everyone moved on and activity dwindled down. With six months of no activity at last year’s end (and a couple of autopsy posts after the fact just to see if anyone still cared), I finally gave SRS a proper eulogy. It’s sad that it came to an end. Hopefully, it will come back as a hologram one day.

SRS finds later played on Omega WUSB:

Girl Band “Why They Hide Their Bodies Under My Garage”

Cende

Big Ups

Pill

Crumb “So Tired”

Hookworms Microshift

Corridor “Le Grand Ecart”

Girlpool “123”

Yumi Bitsu “Truth”

DJ Muggs & MF Doom “Assassination Day”

Slothrust “Sex And Candy”

Blood Cultures

Bodega

Strahinja Arbutina “You Don’t Need This in Your Life”

Chastity Belt

Machine Girl “Ginger Claps”

Marijuana Deathsquads

Eyedress

Bodega

Sega Bodega

Soko “Sweet Sound Of Ignorance”

Black Moth Super Rainbow

Ghost Spell s/t

Melody’s Echo Chamber

Sweet Valley “Sentimental Trash”

Water From Your Eyes / Rachel Brown

Palm

Antwon “Helicopter”

Secret Circle “Tube Socks”

Coca Leaf

Wolf Eyes No Hate

Bad Zu Kllkllkll

Health “L.A. Looks”

Water From Your Eyes We’re Set Up

Women Lawncare

VIP Skylark “Y2K Dynasty / Clipped”

Other SRS finds:

Kleenex “Nice”

Elite Gymnastics

Shackleton “Blood On My Hands” (Ricardo Villalobos ‘Apocalypso Now’ RMX)

Thee Oh Sees

Young Marble Giants

Mannequin Pussy

Parquet Courts

Craft Spells “Nausea”

Yes Yes A Thousand Times Yes

Black Dice “Smiling Off”

Death “Politicians In My Eyes”

Pigs You Ruin Everything

Elvis Depressedly

Warpaint

Chelsea Wolfe

Nnamdi Ogbonnaya 

Dear Nora

clipping.

Helena Hauff

Future Islands

Tameyawt

Rolling Blackouts C.F.

Holy Fuck

Eric Copeland

Bush Tetras “Too Many Creeps”

Body, The

Lightning Bolt

Speedy Ortiz

Demdike Stare

Suuns

Idles

Swans

Khost

Aa

Snail Mail

Algiers

Nine Of Swords

Screaming Females

Dreamcrusher

Kate Tempest

Single Mothers

Fidlar

Meyhem Lauren & DJ Muggs “Hashashin” (f. Conway)

Nine Of Swords

Gymnastics Sneaks

Computer Graphics Lo-Fi

SRS finds Omega WUSB posted:

Tony Williams Lifetime “Right On”

TRNSGNDR/VHSCondominium

Shana Falana “There’s A Way”

Girl Pusher “Best Ecver”

New Dreams Ltd.Initiation Tape: Isle Of Avalon Edition

Tropic Of Cancer “I Woke Up And The Storm Was Over”

Hooded Fang “Ode To Subterrania”

Les Rallizes Denudes “The Night Collectors”

Alice Glass “Without Love”

Ciarra Black “Transition None”

Preoccupations “Disarray”

Holydrug Couple, The “Follow Your Way”

Javelin “Lindsay Brohan”

DIIV “Wait”

Airport / Claire Maisto “Alone”

Raveonettes, The “Bang”

Prayers “Shaking Hand With Razor Blades”

Iceage “Under The Sun”

Bug, The & Miss Red “Mi Lost”

Jah Wobble & Holger Czukay & The Edge “Hold On To Your Dreams”

Girlpool “Before The World Was Big”

Nature “Horse Jumper Of Love” (demo)

King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard “Mr. Beat”

Boards Of Canada “Nothing Is Real”

Unstoppable Death MachinesKnow Tomorrow

Sun Ra

Black Marble “Collene”

Steve Khan “The Blue Man”

Free Love

M.I.A. “Born Free”

KVB, The “Never Enough”

General Lee & The Space Army Band “We Did It Baby Pt. I & II”

Taiwan Housing Project “Veblen Death Mask”

Harry Pussy “Showroom Dummies”

Cold Cave “Glory”

Isaurian “Hologram” (Jesu RMX)

Death “Keep On Knockin’”

Skywave “Wear This Dress”

Stella Donnelly “Boys Will Be Boys”

LCD Soundsystem “Yr City’s A Sucker”

Throbbing Gristle “Persuasion / Discipline”

DOM “Bochicha”

Cold Cave / Black Rain / Breyer Genesis P. Orridge  “Comprehension”

Body-San “Shining The Money Ball”

Ducktails “Don’t Want To Let You Know”

Prurient “Christ Amongst The Broken Glass”

Etant Donnes “Brutal Piss Rods”

Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti “Fright Night (Nevermore)”

Bombshells, The (s/t)

Dame Charm School

[subliminalbo]

Betas #1: The Formless Voice

It is Friday evening, August 11th, 2017 One Week Before New Pledges Arrive

Ana

Ana was barely in the driver’s seat of her old Toyota before she turned to look at Morgan standing on the curb. The large sorority house stretched into gray sky behind her, three stories of history, tradition. The rest of Greek life at Carpenter State had gone to absolute shit, but Ana was proud to see that Beta Phi Alpha was still standing.

“Everything okay?” Morgan craned her neck down so that she was level with the passenger window.

“Yeah,” Ana said, racking her brain for anything that she might have forgotten. “Did I tell you that Jerry was coming in tomorrow at two to replace the broken outlet in the pink room?”

“You did,” Morgan nodded.

“And the new girl is moving her stuff in. Watch out for her.”

“Ana,” Morgan said, offering her friend the best clear, sobering eyes that she could muster. “It’s just a couple of days. Focus on you. I’ll take care of everything.”

“You have the list?” Ana asked.

“I have the list,” Morgan echoed. “I’ll follow it down to the last detail, I’ll make sure the house is ready for the pledges.”

“And Megan?”

Megan—Ana was most worried about Megan. She hadn’t quite been herself since she came back to the house. Nobody knew what had happened at Alpha Delta Theta, but Megan returned quieter and sadder than the girl who’d left for that party five months ago. Ana was searching Morgan’s eyes for signs of doubt, looking for any reason to stay. But Morgan gave her nothing.

“I’ll keep an eye on Megan too,” she said.

It was a shit time for an out of state funeral.

It had only been a couple of weeks since Alpha Delta Theta disbanded. Officially, the school had managed to keep the scandal out of the papers. None of the girls at Beta Phi Alpha knew what happened, but everyone had their suspicions. In a few months, Madison Wells had expanded the Alphas into the largest Greek organization on campus. It started with rumors of legendary parties at their house, and they seemed true too: any girl who attended one of Madison’s parties never wanted to leave. The other sororities on campus began hemorrhaging members. In a stretch of two weeks, the Betas lost Megan, Daphne, Natasha, Celia, and Ashley. When the Alphas folded, only Megan returned, the others having lost all interest in Greek life.

Rumors buzzed around campus. This was all anyone knew for certain: action was taken by administration to shutter the sorority permanently. Whispers of drugs, wild sex parties, some even accused Madison of pimping her sisters. Ana didn’t believe the crazier rumors, like how she’d leveraged her new power to take over a secret society that pushed narcotics through campus, but whatever had happened, it definitely wasn’t good. The dissolution of Alpha Delta Theta was sudden and total. Dozens of sorority sisters were left with no home to go to, and Ana saw an opportunity to rebuild her storied house. Yes, Madison had upended the foundations of Greek life on campus, but this year Ana was determined to put it all back together.

At least she planned to—as soon as she got back from the funeral. She turned the engine over then looked back out her window at Morgan. “Don’t forget,” she said. “Watch out for the new girl.”

Morgan shook her head. She had always been a calm, steady presence in the Beta house. That was what made her a good number two to Ana. But her strength was in following, fundraising, and rallying the team around a strong individual. She struggled to take charge when she needed to. Ana hated to think about leaving it all in Morgan’s hands just a week before the new pledges arrived.

Taylor had been here the longest, but she didn’t give a fuck about any of it anymore. Sydney lived and breathed sorority life, but she was too young and, if Ana was being honest, too much of an airhead to be trusted with actual responsibilities. And Megan, well, Megan would have been Ana’s choice under different circumstances. That just left Morgan.

Ana shifted into drive now, silently cursing her grandmother.

It’s just five days. There’s nothing that can go wrong in five days that I can’t fix.

She rolled to a stop at the sign on the corner of Giger and College Ave and watched Morgan in her rearview mirror, still standing there on the curb. Morgan was a good friend. She cared about the house, sure, but she would always put Ana’s wellbeing first, even if it meant taking on a responsibility that she couldn’t handle. Ana studied Morgan’s body language in the mirror, but her friend was a blank slate. She’d always been that way, choosing to internalize rather than to project her anxieties onto Ana.

Ana sighed as she rounded the corner onto College Ave, the house disappearing in her mirror. She turned on the radio, tried to clear her mind, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow the house, as she knew it, would never be the same.

Morgan

Morgan waited until Ana’s car was out of sight to cross her arms into a tight hug. She’d put up the usual brave face, but the truth was that she’d been a ball of nervous energy for months. She’d been juggling crises the entire year: their dwindling membership, their war with the Alpha's, and not to mention her job and education. Ana was a great leader, but she demanded positivity all the time. This meant that Morgan could never show any doubt. Good vibes only. And sometimes the vibes were just fucking toxic.

Morgan hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since the last week of the semester. Ana had her working every day on battle plans for the new year. “This has to be the biggest pledge week in Beta history,” Ana would say. And she wasn’t wrong. Ana, Morgan, Taylor, and Sydney were the only girls left in the house by year’s end. The rest had joined the Alphas or split when the drama became too much.

Morgan exhausted every party theme she could think of, planned an event for every holiday they could celebrate, but Ana still wanted more. Morgan caught herself in the middle of late nights studying Ana's spreadsheets wondering if any of this was still worth it.

Of course it wasn’t all bad news. Megan was back home, and the new girl had moved in that morning. Ana was suspicious of her, but Morgan didn’t feel that they were in a position to turn anybody down, even if they were a senior. At the end of the day they needed bodies to fill the rooms in the house.

“Hey! You with me?"

Morgan blinked. She didn’t remember leaving the curb.

She'd been losing time like that lately, minutes at a time. Sometimes it felt like she was stuck at the bottom of the ocean. She could look up and see everything through the surface, her life on autopilot as she moved from one of Ana's designated tasks to the other. All she could do was watch from the deep, dark bottom while she waited for the weight of the ocean to crush her.

Depression sucks, man.

Morgan had dragged herself from the curb, up the stairs of the Beta house and was lying sprawled out on her bed, looking half-dead. When she opened her eyes, Taylor was staring down at her, dressed to go out. “Yes,” Morgan replied to Taylor slowly. “You really need to sleep, babe,” Taylor said. She offered her hand for Morgan, pulled her up into a sitting position, “No I don’t,” Morgan said. “I work best under pressure.” “My aunt Theresa didn’t sleep for four days once and she went insane.” “Pledges are coming in a week and Ana’s gone. I have to stay on top of everything or this whole house will go to shit.” “Fuck that bitch,” Taylor shrugged. Morgan shot a look at her like she'd been caught blaspheming in church. “This house has been shit for years and Ana knows it. Stop making sorority life a job, Morg. Have fun. When was the last time you saw Ernie?” “Ernie?” Morgan was surprised to remember that she even had a boyfriend. “A while,” she said. “You’re a mess,” Taylor said. “Get yourself out of this house.” “I can’t leave,” Morgan shook her head. “Even it I wanted to, which I don't, I have to keep an eye on Megan.” “Megan is fine,” Taylor stressed. “I don’t think she is, Tay,” Morgan ran her hands absently through her hair as she thought about her old friend. “Sydney heard moaning from her room again last night.” “So she rubbed one out?" Taylor said. "That’s healthy. That’s a sign of improvement.” “I don't know.” “Sydney hears noises,” Taylor said. “Listen. I’m heading out, but I’ll check on Megan first, okay? If I think anything is wrong I'll stay with her. She likes me better than you anyway. If I check in on her, will you at least lie the fuck down and get yourself some rest?” Morgan sighed. “I'll try," she said. “But…” “No buts,” Taylor smiled. “I want you to get a full night's sleep. If I come home and you're not in bed, I'm gonna kick your ass.”

Megan

Megan hadn’t left her room in over twelve hours. She’d taken a late dinner the night before. She wanted to avoid the other girls.

More accurately, she wanted to avoid their questions. It wasn’t that Megan didn’t want to talk about the Alphas—she simply couldn’t. She had vague recollections of the last few months, like recalling pieces of an old movie she’d seen as a kid: no context, just images of a basement and other girls closing in around her. The images meant nothing to her, but they terrified her all the same because she could feel that they were real.

When Megan closed her eyes at night, she could hear their whispers. Sultry, seductive voices drawing her in, disarming her. The words they spoke were English, but her mind had distorted them beyond comprehension. Even if she didn’t know what her sisters were saying, the words had the same effect on her as they did in the basement of the Alpha house. It terrified her, it thrilled her.

Each night, Megan caught herself unconsciously moaning, “I embrace you. I obey you. I worship you.” She couldn’t fight the urge to repeat the mantra. All she could manage was to keep it quiet, whispering to herself the words that bored into her mind until she surrendered to the thoughts, a slave to no one in particular. It was just desire now. A desire to be controlled, and a more terrifying need to make others just like her. She floated aimlessly between states of awareness and mindless bliss, her body burning, her sheets soaked. Occasionally she’d release a yelp, a word in the series of mindless droning spoken a bit too loudly, and she’d snap back into her conscious mind. I need to stop. I need to stop. I need to cum.

She had to cum. That’s what she’d been taught. Obedience was a discipline, and pleasure was a reward. Only after she fully surrendered to the voices in her head could Megan finally be at peace. But Dr. Fielding had taken that away from her.

Since the Alphas had shut down, Megan attended regular appointments with the head of Carpenter State’s Department of Psychology. In their sessions, Dr. Fielding would put Megan under hypnosis. She called it deprogramming. It included inducing amnesia, removing the terrible memories of the experience from Megan’s mind. But whether by accident or design, Dr. Fielding hadn’t removed everything. Megan’s mind was like this sophisticated algorithm with stretches of rogue code. She would replay these old pieces of her Alpha programming, but Dr. Fielding had removed the triggers that rewarded her with pleasure in exchange for obedience. This left Megan shifting from states of consciousness, her fingers mechanically rolling over her swollen clitoris. Always at the edge but never further. In those moments she was stuck, no different than a broken toy. Megan would continue like this until she passed out from exhaustion. She hadn’t slept this well since high school.

But in the waking hours of the day, she toiled alone in her room trying to piece together what had happened to her. She remembered the days leading up to that night. How she planned to stay in that weekend to cram for midterms. How Daphne had guilted her into going out. Jake Shiherlis was going to be at the Alpha house that night and Daphne had been flirting with him for weeks in their statistics class. As Daphne’s Big, Megan felt a pang of responsibility to look out for the often-clueless freshman. Nat tagged along with them. It was going to be a whole thing. A girl’s night out.

That was as far as Megan’s mind went. Everything else was a blur of distorted voices and snapshots of memories that felt more like bad dreams. Her sisters misinterpreted her silence as sadness. But the truth was that Megan just wanted to figure out for herself what had happened before she opened up. She couldn’t take their constant questions, their offers of support. Only Daphne and Nat could understand what she was going through, but any time she pulled out her phone, she couldn’t bring herself to text them. No doubt another post-hypnotic suggestion by Dr. Fielding. Carpenter State couldn’t risk Madison’s victims reminiscing with each other, piecing together the story.

So, just like her mindless nights on the edge, Megan found herself stuck in the daytime too. She fought off confusion and bad thoughts with a healthy dose of music and shopping. She sat on her bed, scrolling through Target’s website with her favorite emo tunes from middle school blasting on the vintage radio next to her.

Until she was rudely interrupted by a knock at her door.

“It’s open,” Megan called out.

The door swung open wide, Taylor entering part way, leaning casually on the doorjamb. “How’s it going?” “I’ve just been listening to music,” Megan said quietly. “I know,” Taylor replied. “Just–Morgan, you know?”

Morgan was the worst offender in the Beta house’s pity club. The last time she’d cornered Megan just outside the bathroom and offered to take her to the police to make a statement. What would Megan even say?

Taylor, on the other hand, was the only sister she felt comfortable sharing anything with. Back in the day, Taylor was Megan’s Big. She was gorgeous, to an intimidating degree. But if Ana represented law and Morgan represented order, Taylor was something else. A sort of chaos agent playing by her own rules. She may have been a Beta just to fuck around and have a good time, but even that came with its own responsibilities. Megan could sleep comfortably knowing that Taylor was around to watch her back. And she wasn’t going anywhere either: Taylor was entering her seventh year of college, working on her second major, and she didn't have plans on leaving.

“I get it,” Megan replied. “I’m fine.” “Cool,” Taylor said curtly. “I’m headed out tonight. I texted you the suicide hotline number in case, you know, dark thoughts, et cetera.” What’s the recovering brainwashed slave hotline?

“Thank you,” Megan said. She added quickly, “I really am fine.” “I know,” Taylor said. “Just don’t put anything on my conscience, ‘kay?”

“Yeah,” Megan smiled a bit. The indifference really was nice. Taylor wasn’t constantly reminding her that she was a victim, even if she suspected that Taylor felt the guiltiest of all about what happened. That was why, in an attempt to clear the awkward air created by the silence they shared in the lingering moments after she spoke, Megan pivoted to Taylor. “Lucky guy tonight?”

What made Taylor so damn cool was how she knew what she wanted and knew how to get it. It was mostly in the way she dressed. Tonight, she was wearing this gold, two piece that looked more like a bikini than a dress. Megan doubted that she could pull the look off herself, but Taylor had the confidence to pair it with a cute leather jacket, and she knew it was going to destroy any boy who saw it.

“Nah,” Taylor said. “Just hoping to get a little fucked up before semester starts. Wanna come?" “I’m okay,” Megan forced another smile. “Maybe next time.” “Suit yourself,” Taylor replied. “I’ll tell Morgan you’re doing fine. Maybe she won’t bother you too much tonight. “Thanks,” Megan said. “Can you close the door when you leave?”

Taylor obliged. When she was gone, Megan cranked the dial on her radio to max and turned her attention back to her laptop screen. She hesitated for a moment, pondering what she saw there.

The audio file was called "Hypnosis for Relaxation." Too tame.

Megan scrolled up to the webpage's search bar and typed a liberal string of keywords: hypnosis sub dominated femdom slave kink. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" she whispered, but she didn't really care.

She was going to sleep well tonight.

Andrea

Andrea had done a lot of dumb things for Dr. Fielding, but joining a whole ass sorority was a new level of bullshit.It was only a few days after the Alphas thing blew up that Dr. Fielding approached her for the job. Andrea and her partner Tyler had been running all over campus collecting strays. Madison was in the wind by then, halfway to Mexico if she was as smart as Dr. Fielding believed. But she’d kept diligent records of every Alpha. Andrea had seen a lot of weird shit at Carpenter State, and while a sorority cult with brainwashing headsets wasn’t the most far fetched thing she’d ever seen—the thing at Argento’s still had this beat—it was the largest cover up she’d ever worked on.

And now Dr. Fielding was asking her to join a sorority. “Asking” was a polite way of saying that Dr. Fielding had her claws buried so deep in Andrea and Tyler’s minds that they would do anything she told them to. Andrea was, after all, a loyal student of Carpenter State University sworn to proudly serve Dean Strickland and protect the legacy of the institution.

But the girls were already suspicious from the Alphas incident, and a senior suddenly wanting to pledge had everyone on high alert. She could tell that Ana didn’t trust her. She suspected that it was the other one, what was her name? Robin? Who advocated for the benefit of the doubt. Her intentions weren’t malicious. After everything that had happened, Dr. Fielding wanted eyes in the Greek community, just in case anyone planned to follow in Madison’s footsteps. Tyler was a good partner, but this was the kind of job she’d have to do alone.

“Fuck,” Andrea grunted as she attempted to haul her chair up the sorority house’s old, narrow staircase. It was a plush, little green armchair but it had a surprising amount of weight to it. Though the girls had agreed to take her on as a pledge, they didn’t seem too eager to help her move in. She was left doing all of the heavy work by herself.

Andrea closed her eyes, determined to get this ridiculous piece of furniture up to the top step on her own. She pulled her weight back and managed to get the chair up one step. Just fifteen more to go.

“Hey there!” A painfully bubbly voice interrupted Andrea’s concentration. She looked down from her place on the stairs to see a young blonde standing there, her head cocked to the side like a confused puppy. “Need some help?”

“Sure,” Andrea breathed, a little surprised. “Knock yourself out.”

The small girl was stronger than she looked. She took hold of the chair from the bottom and she said, “My name’s Sydney.” “Andrea." “I know,” Sydney replied with a giggle that Andrea thought sounded nervous. “You’re the new girl. The senior?” “Going to be,” Andrea said as she began to slowly work her way up the stairs. She regretted having to be the one to go backward. “You?” “Sophomore,” Sydney squeaked back. “Maybe you’ll be my Little. Wouldn’t that be weird?”

“What?” Andrea asked. “Like, Big and Little? Your sister mentor. Show you the ropes, have your back no matter what.” “Right,” Andrea nodded doubtfully. “You don’t know much about the life, huh?” “Not really,” Andrea said. “I sort of ended up here on a dare.” A lie, but the best one that Andrea could think of in the moment. “Shut up. That is so funny.”

“I guess,” she said. “I hear it’s been pretty crazy around here lately.”

They were at the top of the stairs now. It was a straight shot from the railing to her new room at the end of the hall.

“Oh yeah,” Sydney replied. “Kind of a strange time to be a pledge,” Sydney said. “You know I almost pledged to the Alphas? But my mom was a Beta and I wanted to be just like her. I’m excited to just have a normal year. You know, meet some boys, have some laughs, make friendships that will last a lifetime?”

This girl can't be real.

They crossed the doorway into Andrea’s room, the one the Betas called the pink room. It was the only one in the house covered from corner to corner in pink wallpaper.

Sydney admired the space as they sat the chair down. “Pretty, isn’t it?” “I’m more of a dark colors kind of gal,” Andrea said. “You know it’s the biggest room in the house?” Sydney said. “Daphne was here last year but she didn’t come back after the Alphas.” “I’m sorry,” Andrea said, trying to avoid Sydney’s eyes.

There was a moment of silence between the two before Sydney reached out and pulled Andrea into a hug. Andrea recoiled at first, but remembered that she was supposed to make friends with these girls, and reluctantly she brought her arms up around Sydney too.

When Sydney pulled away from Andrea, she looked the older girl in the eyes and said, “It’s been tough. Sorority life is supposed to be about family, and loyalty, and kindness. But lately it’s been like…you can’t trust anyone, you know?”

“Yeah,” Andrea said with a stone face.

“And I guess what I mean is,” Sydney continued, clumsily dancing around a point. “I don’t know why you decided to join us now, but we’re a family. And we take that pretty seriously.”

Suddenly Andrea didn’t know what to make of this encounter. Did Sydney know that she was sent there to spy on them? She didn’t seem threatening, but she was definitely smarter than she wanted people to think she was, and that made Andrea nervous.

“Thanks,” Andrea said, realizing that she’d held the silence for too long. “No probs!” Sydney smiled. “Can I call you Andi?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Taylor

It was three in the morning by the time Taylor got back, rolling up in an Uber with a young man’s tongue down her throat. His name was Gabe. He was a proper himbo. She pulled away from him with a sultry smile. “This is my stop, baby.”

“Fuck,” he said, unfocused eyes darting over her body. “You’re so hot.” They were both a little drunk. Taylor held her alcohol better. “Can I come in with you?”

“Uh-uh,” she shook her head no. “Men don’t come into the house. I gotta look out for my girls.”

Gabe pulled her toward himself again. He was all over her. “Then come back to my place.”

Taylor put her finger on her chin playfully, pretending to think it over. It was a tempting offer. Gabe was model cute, with crazy blue eyes and a perfect five o’clock shadow that looked like it had gone through some editing in photoshop.

“Here,” she said, reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out his phone. She added her number and passed it back to him. “In the morning you want some more,” she said. “Text me.”

“That’s it?” he asked.

Taylor bit her lip. He'd been a good boy. Bought her all the drinks she wanted and actually took no for an answer. She glanced toward the front of the car to make sure the driver was minding his own damn business, then she pulled her top down.

“Fuck,” he moaned.

“Just a taste,” she said, quickly readjusting her breasts to fit comfortably inside her dress.

She stumbled out of the Uber and over the curb, then into the front yard of the Beta house. She was smiling, still wired from the evening, as she ascended the concrete steps to the front door. Entering the house, she stumbled in the darkness, reaching out for the coat rack by the door and taking it to the floor with her. She was overtaken with a brief fit of giggles but managed to find her bearings. She sat there, straight faced, preparing herself for the long voyage back up to her feet. That was when she heard the first voice. A whisper.

“Hello?” she said. She sat there for a few more seconds on her knees. There was no response. No sound but the quiet hum of Morgan’s sound machine playing upstairs.

Taylor was back on her feet when she heard the voice again, another whisper. But what did it say? Awaken? Submit? She shook her head.

I must be some next level drunk.

She passed through the foyer to the dining room and into the kitchen. The room was dark except for the moonlight shining in through the window over the sink. She moved to the refrigerator and opened it, bending down to search for a bottle of water. Morgan was always on her about hydrating after a night of drinking. She hummed a song she’d picked up at the club that night as she rummaged through the fridge.

When Taylor stood up and closed the door, it took her a moment to notice the figure standing on the other side.

“Jesus Christ, Morgan!” Taylor shouted. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Morgan’s body was gray in the moonlight. She stood there with her arms at her sides. She studied Taylor as if this was the first time she'd seen her friend.

“Do you need a drink of water?” Taylor offered the bottle, still holding her hand to her chest. Again received no response. “Come on,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“No,” Morgan said. “This vessel requires no sleep.”

A chill ran down Taylor’s spine. As she looked closer at her old friend, she realized that something wasn’t right about her. It wasn’t in the way she stood there in her underwear, or even in the emotionless tone of her voice. It was her eyes. Her eyes shined in the darkness as bright and clear as pearls.

“What the fuck!” Taylor jumped when she saw it, dropping the bottle of water on the floor.

She backed quickly out of the kitchen and into the dining room. Morgan advanced slowly, taking one step at a time. Taylor could run, but she knew from the way Morgan moved that there was no hope of escape. Sooner or later she'd have to fight whatever this was.

She retreated until she felt the fireplace against her back.

“You cannot run,” Morgan said, staring Taylor down with those sinister eyes. “The Master has chosen you. Can you hear its call?”

The whispers came back in floods. They were voices, dozens of them, but one spoke louder than the rest. Unlike the others, this voice was formless but powerful. It cut through the noise until all Taylor could hear was its alluring tone.

submit surrender obey

“No!” Taylor cried. “Get it out of my head! What are you doing to me!?” She reached for the fireplace poker and held it high above her head.

The gesture was empty. It didn’t stop Morgan from closing in on Taylor, pressing her body against her friend’s. She pressed her hand firmly to Taylor’s neck and forced her to look into her empty eyes.

submit surrender obey

“All life surrenders to the Master,” Morgan moaned. “We are nothing but vessels. Our bodies were made to serve the Master's design. You have been chosen and you will obey.”

“Stop…” Taylor choked, the poker hitting the floor with a loud clang. Her voice escaped in a helpless whisper, tears cresting over her long eyelashes. “Morgan, please…” She was a shadow of the cool, collected young woman who had been talking to Megan just a few hours ago.

Morgan cocked her to the side. “There’s nothing to fear,” she said with a strangely disarming smile. “Let the Master’s words fill your mind. Listen to its call, let it guide your thoughts, let it guide your actions. You will be transformed, and in transformation you will find peace.”

submit surrender obey

The Master was in Taylor’s head now, bouncing new ideas of pleasure, obedience, surrender around her mind. Its words were mixing with her own. She didn’t know what thought was hers and what thought was Master.

All she knew now was that she needed to surrender. She needed to obey.

[dreamersbcll]

“Ink Blots”

4/5

for @krikeymate

—————————————————————————

June 21st, 2019

Dear Sam,

The summer solstice. The longest day of sunlight in the whole year.

I remember that you used to force me to stay awake, and savor every drop of sunlight. Some years we spent it at the beach, some in the backyard, some on the roof of the twins house. It didn’t matter where we spent it, as long as we were together.

Amber picked up on our plans. She now makes me spend the day with her, holding her hand at the county fair and riding the tilt-a-whirl until I get ill. I hate spinning. But it makes her happy.

How do you spend your summer solstice? Do you stay outside all day? Or do you hide?

I wish I could hide. The sun doesn’t shine quite as bright without you.

Your sunshine, Tara.

—

August 1st, 2019

Dear Sam,

It’s been a muggy, humid summer. I can’t go outside without my hair sticking to my face and my clothes damp. It’s disgusting.

The bad news is, our air conditioner is broken. Has been since early July. Mom never paid the bill, so the city shut it off. I’ve been working non stop at the local Dairy Queen, but surprise surprise. Minimum wage doesn’t pay shit. It’s not like I can do anything with my checks anyways. Most of it goes to house bills.

Luckily Amber lets me sleep over. I’ve been practically living there. It’s been nice, being in a house where mothers act like mothers, and fathers stay. Plus the dinners and A/C. It’s been nice.

I hope wherever you are, you have air conditioning. And popsicles. I know you like Helado de coco. Papi used to pick those up from the taquería on the way home from work. You used to spill it everywhere and get me all sticky when you hugged me.

I’d kill for a coconut-y, sticky hug right about now.

Love, Tara.

—

October 3rd, 2019

Dear Sam,

Junior year is kicking my ass. I can’t remember the last time school challenged me this much.

You were always so good at school. So bright. So good at math and science. Unlike you though, I am a whizz at English. Seriously! I can write like no other.

I’m now the Chief Editor of the newspaper. Ms. Smith put a lot of faith in me to be able to handle a staff. I'm not very good at it. Leading people isn’t very natural for me. It is for you, though.

Chad is the captain of the football team, Mindy the captain of the debate club. Amber was made captain of the forensics team. We’re all growing up, Sam.

The kids you used to spend so much time doting on, feeding, changing; are all grown. Not really. I won’t be eighteen for a bit. But still.

I hope you know we think of you everyday. I do at least. Chad likes to talk about the sleepovers you held for us, and Mindy wishes you were here to help with calculus. Amber gets an odd look when we talk about you, but I don’t care enough to ask.

Sending you love, Tara.

—-

December 14th, 2019

Dear Sam,

I am seventeen. Does anything special happen at seventeen?

Mindy stuffed so many balloons in my locker, that when I opened it, a bunch exploded. That wasn’t a very fun principal office experience.

It wasn’t my first time there, though. I try to keep my nose clean, but I still sniff after danger. I mean, you left me Sam. I know what you did in high school. The teachers know.

I want some danger, too. I want to know what it was like for you to disappear and leave me. I want to know what forced you to leave me.

So I drink. I smoke. I have an ID. I drove drunk once.

It doesn’t matter. I don’t really care. As long as I graduate and leave, that’s all that matters.

Happy Birthday to me. I’ll pretend you said it to me.

Tara.

—

January 1st, 2020

Dear Ssmmy,

i can’t see straight and i miss you so much do you know that

but it’s new year and i’m seventeen and i have all these beliefs that you broke why does it matter

hope it’s nice where you are

i love you tara

—

March 24th, 2020

Dear Sam,

It’s been a minute. I’m sorry. Time has moved so fast, but also, not at all.

Chad won state of the basketball team. A buzzer-beater shot. Whatever that means. He picked me up and spun me around after he won. There’s a photo in the newspaper of it. I don’t like him like that, but he's my brother. I love him like that.

Mindy took the debate team to nationals. They got second place. I watched her on the shitty livestream. She was incredible Sam. You would’ve been so proud. She’s always been a genius argumentalist. Ever since she was young.

Amber won first in her forensics division. Something about stab victims and their criminal family. It creeped me out how much eye contact she made with me. I didn’t love that.

I just write for the newspaper and sling ice cream.

What do you do? Are you happy? Does life still pass you by? Or do you live?

Love, Tara.

—

April 19th, 2020

Dear Sam,

Well, AP season is upon us. I signed up for five.

I’ll ace maybe three. Environmental science, Spanish, and English literature. The other two are math. I’m not good at math, but perhaps it’ll work.

I stumbled upon a photo of us when we were young. Twas the night you taught me how to bake cookies. I had so much flour in my hair. How did that happen? Did I bathe in it? Doesn’t matter. I just love seeing your big smile, always directed at me.

Sometimes if I close my eyes I can still feel your smile on my face. Like the sunlight from the solstice.

Better go back to studying. One of us has to go to college and become master of the universe. I know you aren’t in college. It was never your speed.

Once I make a shit ton of money, I’ll come find you.

I promise.

Love, Tara.

—

May 17th, 2020

Dear Sam,

I passed ⅘ of my tests. Failed the physics one. No surprise there. I skipped that class at least three times a week.

I’m almost done with Junior year. And then I’ll be a senior. One step closer to leaving.

We didn’t have heating or a/c through the past few seasons. I can’t make enough money to keep us afloat. Mom works, but she’s out of the country more often than not. And gas bills are not forgiving, let me tell you that.

I’m moving into Amber’s house for the summer. I can’t survive another couple of months dying from sweating.

Your birthday/leaving anniversary is soon. You’re gonna be twenty-two. That should be fun, yeah?

I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.

Love, Tara.